Tournament of Fate: The Rise of UWU, Act 1
by LordryuTJ
Summary: An alliance of two notably devious minds forms, plucking combatants from place to place to compete in an underground wrestling tournament that promises no mercy. Not only is the WWE in danger after the disappearance of several of their superstars, but perhaps the rest of the world.
1. The Land of Opportunity

**FanFiction Wrestling: Tournament of Fate**

 _ **This story is meant to be a precursor to a full-time "wrestling promotion" story spinning-off from the FanFiction Wrestling events of my past. My intention for this story is not just to have a crossover battle between individuals from different sources of entertainment, but to have some backstory going on behind it. Think of it as taking a "Lucha Underground" approach, with this epilogue, which may go a few chapters, maybe five or more, to reveal the characters that are primarily involved in the story.**_

 **Rated T for violence/language/minor alcohol/sexual content.**

 _ **All characters, real or not, belong to their rightful owners.**_

* * *

 **Prologue, part 1  
** _ **The Land of Opportunity**_

 _February 20, 2016  
_ _Location: ?_

We start at the midpoint of a long, dimly lit corridor of a mysterious building, perhaps a warehouse of sorts. Two silhouetted individuals, one noticably bulkier and the other slightly stocky but average-heightened, emerge from one end of the hallway, unable to be visualized by how little light there is. The mysterious shadows approach a door at the end of the corridor.

The smaller of the two knocks on the door lightly, and then turns the doorknob, ensuring to alert whoever is on the other side of their arrival.

As the door opens, the room on the other side is shown to be just as barely illuminated as the corridor before it. The only light source in the room seems to be a lamp sitting upon a sturdy wooden desk. A shadowed man sits at the backside of the desk, with only an arm visible to the light. Two chairs sit in front of the desk, welcoming the two who intend to meet up with the man behind the desk.

The shorter of the first two mysterious men approached the desk. "Let me just say, it's an honor to meet you." He speaks, giving off a slight New York accent.

"Yes, yes... please, sit." The man behind the desk responds, with a thick Spanish accent, as he gestured towards the seats.

Upon taking a seat, the two curious strangers became more visible in the bright light of the lamp. The first, being the first to speak, is revealed to be Mr. Paul Heyman, a well-known personality and authority in professional wrestling. The bigger individual is his client Brock Lesnar, a former MMA fighter and multi-time WWE world champion. The identity of the man sitting before them remains to be seen.

"Paul, it came to me as an amusement for you to talk to me, especially considering your success and what's to come." The shaded man begins, "Tell me, why is it you approached _me_ of all people?"

"Well, if you must know, I come with the intention not just to benefit myself, but moreso to benefit my client." Heyman responds, refering to Lesnar sitting alongside him. "You see, my client Brock Lesnar... is a _fighter_. Every great fighter proves themselves by _conquering_ over others. Lesnar's great list of victims comes strong; John Cena, Triple H, The Big Show, Randy Couture, Kurt Angle, The _UNDERTAKER!_ All of these great men _fell_ to a hungry beast. However, when a beast still hungers, even when the scraps that are left aren't enough to interest it, it looks in other sources, requires a hand in need. In this case, Brock doesn't consider Reigns and Ambrose enough of a feast, and that anything further is just digging too deep into leftovers. I want to know if you have something to offer us as some extra help."

"So you come looking for more opportunities to demolish the competition. Is that correct?" The unilluminated figure asks.

"Yes, sir." Heyman nods. Lesnar smirks in amusement to the right of Heyman.

The unknown man chuckles in fascination, liking the approach Heyman is going for, about his client's "hunger".

"I like your enthusiasm, Heyman." He quips. "Reminds me of... well, me."

"Well... we've both had a fair share of business highs and lows." Heyman notes, remembering his past businesses with ECW.

"Between us, all three of us, I can safely say that a collaboration of ideas between you and I is quite amusing. Seems like there isn't much of anybody else who could get the job done quite as flawlessly."

"Well, Vince McMahon and his family likely wouldn't find the time to actually listen to my ideas, and Miss Dixie Carter is bound for failure anyway. And of course, Jim Cornette is twenty years too far behind."

"The less we mention of them the better, Paul. They are very well _causas perdidas_ , they've lost their touch long ago. But the land of opportunity is rich for the both of us, especially because we are of a similiar mindset."

"Indeed we are. _You_ love violence, so do I, so does Brock." Brock smiles sinisterly as he nods on to Heyman's enlightening comparisons. "However, the full potential that Brock and I have to shed blood, it can't be approached just being in WWE, where Brock doesn't fight full-time. That's why we want to expand our brand, to you."

"You speak many truths, Paul, about the demons you face in the WWE. You're not afraid to let them out when it comes to the outside world beyond the WWE Universe. Thankfully, a partnership between us can benefit the world in a whole. I don't have much for you right now, however, so, for now, there's no need to linger on. You may go if you want."

"Thank you for your time. I won't let you down." Heyman nods towards his benefactor, as he and Brock rise up from their seats, and make their exit from the dark and gloomy office.

The shadowy figure behind the desk turns around in his chair, satisfied with his negotiations, as the ambient lights shone on him closer and brought visibility into his face, revealing this man behind the desk as an all-too-familiar face.

"With the experience I have, Heyman, I don't expect failure." Dario Cueto makes an assurance to himself, and his new-found consortium partner. What this man had planned for the future between him and Heyman will soon come to light.

* * *

 _Meanwhile, somewhere in Washington..._

A cellphone rings out, bringing attention to an individual who catches the phone's alert in time. Luckily, the person who caught this call happens to be a certain retired, bearded athlete, interrupted from the next stage of his career.

"Hello?"

" _Hello, Danielson. We've been expecting you._ "

 _To be continued...  
_

* * *

 _ **So... from what we know, Dario Cueto, having vanished from his original Temple, has met an agreement to a partnership with the equally devious Paul Heyman and his client Brock Lesnar, but what is left unknown is how it specifically involves the recently-retired Daniel Bryan...**_

 _ **Chapter 2 will arrive soon. If I feel I'm back up to speed now, after all the hiatuses and such, it'll probably come by in about a couple days. School's still a thing, so there's that.**_


	2. He Knocks At Your Door

**Prologue, part 2**

 _ **He Knocks At The Door**_

 _When it comes to trust, it takes some traits such as a golden heart, a golden tongue, great power, and fortunes beyond all belief. In a way, it isn't a requirement to have every one of those traits. But when something comes knocking at your door that you have yet to figure out, your answer is based on how much you can try to trust. The fear of the unknown is based on you and your actions alone._

 _For one man, a phone call could change the path ahead, especially if you knew the path by heart._

* * *

"Mr. Cueto. I'm amused, I wasn't expecting _you,_ " quips the bothered Daniel Bryan, having gotten caught a bit off-guard by the call.

" _Apologies if this came as an inconvenience to you, Bryan, but after your series of complications over the last couple weeks, I come by willing to negotiate._ " Dario responds.

"Well, I told you last year, I'm telling you again, joining you in your old raggedy temple is not in my future. I'm sorry if you were expecting a different answer this time around."

" _Danielson..._ "

"I don't go by that anymore."

" _This doesn't concern the Temple. At least... not anymore. You see, I've been running away from the demons of my past, and in order to start anew, I've looked towards others for help._ "

"And so you come to me first, of all people?"

" _Only because you're one of the more respected people in the sport of wrestling. More so than me. Thankfully, I can improve you even further than the WWE could ever do, without anybody like the McMahons holding you down like the son they didn't want._ "

"How would you help me? I'm retired now; improvement is pretty much all gone, because of these damn concussions. Any more stress on my head and I could end up like Edge, or worse, like Chris you-know-who."

" _I assure you benefits will be guaranteed once you hear about this opportunity._ "

"You're gonna need to think of a more _unique_ opportunity than risking pulling a Misawa. No deal."

With that, Daniel hangs up quite bluntly on Cueto, only for another series of ringing from the phone to occur.

Bryan answered with a tad bit of irritation. "Dario, for god's sake-!"

"He's right you know."

Daniel Bryan immediately recognizes Paul Heyman's voice, silencing him abruptly.

"Paul... you can't be serious." Daniel puts a hand to his forehead, not wanting to believe any involvement between Heyman and Cueto.

"Surprised to see me? You probably shouldn't be, considering you know how I feel about Vince and the machine. Daniel, between me and Dario, the reliance between each other is on point. Now let us explain-"

"What the hell exactly is there to explain?"

" _We can heal you_." The four words that Heyman responds with seem to be intending to try to push Daniel towards an agreement.

"Bullshit." Bryan reacts with blunt aggravation.

"I'm not a man of many lies, Daniel. Just meet with us for one time, and if you reject, we can always find another big fish in the sea who is as loyal as Lesnar is to me. At least, enough to join me and Dario."

"Lesnar's with you—I-ughh, I should've figured that out, considering I'm talking with Alfred Hitchcock's fat-cat cousin."

"Creative insult, Daniel, but pissing off someone like me is probably bad for your health; you know who I work with."

Bryan sighs, face on head once again, as he begins to feel as if he's falling down a bottomless pit of frustration over the two men breathing down his neck. When it comes to loyalty, he stays with WWE when it comes to the circumstances of the people he worked closely with and the fans who supported him for the last six years. Irregardless of who he goes to, it could be considered a fall down the peg of the wrestling industry, as being one of the most popular guys in the most prestigious company, no matter what happened over the last few decades with the quality of the shows it spits out, is always the peak of his life. Even if injuries killed his in-ring career, he knows when to say no. What to do...?

"... _One_ meeting. One meeting, and you try as hard as you can to try to impress me. You might not get me on your side in the end, but the most you can do is try. Tell Dario I'll see him, and you, soon."

"I'm glad you're willing to give me a chance." Paul Heyman sounded surprised but impressed with the enforced turn-around. "See you soon."

Daniel finally gets his phone out of his hands at the end of the call, sitting down to contemplate what's to come once he approaches Dario and Heyman.

"...They can _heal_ me?" Bryan speaks to himself, wanting to figure out just what Heyman meant.

* * *

 _Meanwhile, on a road heading to Cleveland, Ohio..._

Not far from Washington, the very company that Daniel Bryan promised his loyalty to had just completed a house show in Youngstown, just near where Fastlane was set to take place in.

"Hey, you alright, man?"

Dean Ambrose looks up from his wrist tape to look towards his friend Roman Reigns, sweaty and bruised from a street fight from the end of the Youngstown event.

"Yeah, I'm good, Rome." Ambrose responds to his brother-in-arms. "Just... Fastlane, man."

"One more day. I'm sure you want to try to tear down Lesnar as much as I do. Just hope he doesn't suplex our friendship apart."

Ambrose chuckles. "That's up there with the tater tots shit about Sheamus, dude."

"Hey, that was Vince's idea, not mine."

"Almost feels like it was also his idea to get the lowest ratings possible up to that point. Ah, I probably shouldn't say that too loudly."

"Pfft, yeah. You never know if he's watching."

The two SHIELD buddies laughed off their playful jokes and fist-bumped to solidify their enjoyment in their own humor. Just shows that there's no breaking this team, even if the odds stand before them in someone like the Beast in Brock Lesnar.

"...but are you sure about this, Daniel?"

Reigns and Ambrose take their attention off themselves and towards fellow workmate Brie Bella, on her phone with her husband.

"...Alright, if it concerns you that much. Just call back soon. Later..." Brie solemnly ends the conversation, as Reigns and Ambrose approach her.

"Uhhh... something going on with Daniel?" Reigns seems eager to figure out whatever situation is going on with Brie and Daniel.

"Well... I don't really know exactly," Brie starts, "but Daniel said he got a phone call just a bit ago about some sort of _meeting..._ whatever it is, I'm a little worried. He didn't say much else besides that."

"Yep. Just 37 words, and something already smells fishy." Ambrose comes to a pretty quick conclusion about Daniel Bryan's mysterious meeting.

"You think so?" Brie inquires.

"Hundred percent. Believe me, I've been in CZW; the best thing, and probably the only good thing, that came out of that was my career here." Dean assured the concerned Bella twin, referencing his time in the ultraviolent company.

Roman seems a bit perturbed by Ambrose's explanation. "What does the reference to CZW have to do with knowing the meeting—"

"They have weedwhackers, Roman!" Ambrose proclaims with the weirdest of answers.

"That makes _less_ sense!"

"Roman... _suffering succotash_ made no sense."

"Make it a rule never to mention that again."

" _ANYWAY..._ " Dean Ambrose impatiently considers it the best idea to just carry on with figuring out D-Bry's business. "Brie, it's a good thing we came to you first about this; Daniel's a buddy of ours... even after triple-powerbombing him about a thousand times three years ago, but if you really want to make sure Daniel's gonna be okay, then... we're on the case."

"Thanks, Dean. I'm glad you're willing to help." Brie voices her gratefulness towards an assistance to heal her worries with clasped hands.

"Uh, Dean, we still have Fastlane to worry about—" Roman reminds Ambrose of their upcoming match.

"Like you said, one more day; we'll be back to kick Lesnar's ass and then kick Triple H's ass next month, but my priorities have been rearranged." Dean assures his Samoan partner. "Whenever a mysterious meeting comes up, someone gets a good deal or loses a kidney. Not risking either one, as long as a Bella stays happy and sucky in the ring..."

"I can still hear you..." Brie comments from the side.

"Roman, get the car; somewhere a goat's hiding something deep inside, and now it's in a game of Hide and Seek that it never wanted." Ambrose's lunatic mind seems to clearly dribble down to weird one-liners that seem kinda cliché while also having senseless hilarity at the same time.

Reigns nodded, willing to let Dean's non-sequitur methods of making himself sound really cool slide as usual, and the two oddball best friends left together.

The two out of three former members of Shield had a mission on their hands, but it wasn't in Cleveland, Ohio at Fastlane. Indeed, whatever this meeting Daniel Bryan has agreed to has some dark vibes behind it, and Dean and Roman are willing to play the spies in this situation.

 _To be continued..._

* * *

 **Give it a day or so, and we'll figure out the true story behind what Dario Cueto and Paul Heyman want with Daniel Bryan, and how they'll "heal him". Until next time...**


	3. The Men Who Search For Goats

**Prologue, part 3  
** _ **The Men Who Search For Goats  
**_

* * *

 _Daniel Bryan's life has always been topsy-turvy since he joined WWE. He's taken a lot of verbal hazing from a guy who would soon become a D-list Hollywood star. He's gotten fired for a month for nearly killing a ring announcer with his own tie. He's taken a beating from a Shovel Knight of a COO and countless goons. But the one thing the former leader of the dormant Yes Movement was expecting, was entering the same limo as a beast and a walrus._

About an hour after caving in to the meeting request, Daniel stands outside his home, in somewhat cold weather, as he witnesses a pitch black limo pull in just a couple feet in front of him. From the looks of it, all of the windows seem to be bulletproof of some sort, deducing from being unable to look past the thick panes of glass attached to the limo.

The window in the passenger's seat lowers slowly revealing Paul Heyman's eagerly evil smirk.

"It's been a while, Mr. Bryan." Heyman extends an arm out to Daniel in offer of a handshake.

"...No deal on the handshake." Daniel responds bluntly. "I know what that hand's touched."

" _Just hop in, Daniel._ " Heyman sternly proclaims, not willing to take much thrown shade given the business he has to tend to soon enough.

The bearded underdog is a tad reluctant towards opening the door to the seat right behind Heyman. Bryan's worries about this partnership with one of the more sinister minds has been further authenticated by the presence of _Brock Lesnar seated right next to him_. Oh _joy_...

Well, he's gotta figure out what's what between Heyman and a man like Mr. Dario Cueto someway, irregardless of any suplexes that may occur.

Seats occupy, belts click in, the engine starts, and off we go.

 _We'll come back here soon.  
_

* * *

 _Meanwhile, on a road being followed by two unconventional fighters._

"Ten miles and a blown tire, dude? I mean, fucking really?"

"I think someone dropped a glass bottle in the road a bit back. I didn't even bring a spare, man. _Uggh..._ we're gonna need somebody to tow us back."

"No."

"What?"

"No going back now, Rome."

"What do you mean? Wha—Dean, we're not leaving the car behind!"

"Unless you have enough strength to carry a big fuckin' car on your back and still have a functioning spine, we're not taking it the rest of the way to D-Bry's."

…

The path long ahead has been halted briefly, and then re-continued at a slower pace. Mainly because pushing a car at least a hundred or so miles over to follow a goat-bearded man like Daniel is an absolute bullshitting towards Ambrose and Reigns for the time being. Ambrose spends the time being pushing the car forward, as Reigns pulls from the front.

"Well, it could be worse," Ambrose breaks the silence filled with enforced strength, looking at the bright side of things. "Brock Lesnar could be chasing us and we wouldn't know."

"Not possible; he wasn't around worth shit back in Youngstown." Roman proclaims.

"Roman, you know we're practically brothers, but now's not the time to be smart with the truth."

"Well, to be honest, you _are_ a high school dropout."

"The love of wrestling called for me, man. Called for me _real_ bad."

"Makes us much more different than it meets the eye. I payed my dues playing football before I got here, and you... kinda just... bailed."

"Proof that bad ideas lead to good outcomes. Well, depends on what you think of CZW."

"Dean, I spent time catching footballs and tackling people for a living; I would choose that over weed-whackers, cinderblocks, thumbtacks and light-tubes."

"Jesus Christ, how far 'till we hit a town? We need a pit stop, somewhere!" Dean keeps his sight pointing down the far sole road, keeping an eye on what's coming forwards and never leaving his vision stray away. After a few seconds more of frustrated straining, Dean spots something in the distance. "I spy something yellow just a few tugs ahead."

"What?"

"I seriously think that's a yield sign or something just right ahead, Roman. I can _see_ it, man."

Roman squints to try to focus his vision on the supposed 'unidentified yellow object'. "...Dean. That's not a sign. It's a person in a mask or something."

"A person?" And then Dean's nonsensical mind starts to process the clues before him. "Wait... yellow... person... mask... wait a minute." And then it hit him. " _Jervis_? _"_

The man in yellow tips his little top hat towards the two friends in need. "Hello there, Mr. Ambrose! I see you and your friend are in a bit of a jam!"

 _Don't worry, we'll be right back later on; trying to make this chapter go longer than others.  
_

* * *

 _Back in the limo..._

It feels like it's been an hour since he entered the limo, but from last Daniel Bryan checked, only 10 minutes passed by so far. Passing the time seems pretty difficult at this point, since the reception on his phone fell to dog turd a couple miles from home. Looking out the window would be just like staring at a television screen while it's turned off. Whatever invokes these kinds of windows seems to imply that wherever Bryan figured he was heading might not be the most well-known place. The other choice would be talking to Brock Lesnar right across from him, but he isn't considerably a talker.

"You alright, goat-man?"

Welp, the "conversation" choice just seems to be solidified, now that Lesnar wants to have some casual speak.

"Feeling nervous, Brock. For all I know, the headquarters for you, Paul and Dario is in Suplex City." Daniel retorts, definitely worried about his health when it comes to someone as generally destructive as Brock.

Thankfully, a chuckle from the Beast isn't that well intimidating in general. Then again, his _voice_ altogether doesn't scare many.

"You're lucky; Paul's got me in a good mood with what we got working with." Lesnar assures Bryan, being much more relaxed than when he is in the ring. Must be the overall lack of ruthless aggression in the atmosphere

"Oh really? ...I'm only been nervous because I've just been thinking."

"'Bout what?"

"...Paul said you guys could 'heal me' in some way. To what extent did he mean by that?"

"What, the healing shit?"

"Yeah."

"...You _do_ realize they wanted to see you compete right?"

"Well, I'm charmed to hear somethin' like that, but given I've only wrestled a couple months out of the year in the last couple years, it seemed like Heyman sparked a _little_ interest with that."

"You were speaking to a man with a golden tongue; it seemed to happen eventually. Heyman said that Dario was setting up a deal. Dario's the one who could help you out the most; Heyman's mainly the hype man."

"I should've figured it was all Cueto in some way."

"Considering how the Lucha company worked out so well, it kinda seems like Dario has some kind of magic on his hands. Heyman told me... that Dario told _him_ that the deal he was working out could fix up all the stuff that the injuries broke down or some shit. The neck, the shoulder, the concussions, _everything_."

Daniel laughs off the supposed implication of magic that Lesnar dropped in front of him. "Magic? What is he, some kind of Mexican Jesus or something?"

"'Mexican Jesus'? Pfft, that sounds ridiculous when you come to think of it. But no. At least, I don't think so. Never saw him actually do anything to the extent of _magic_ or whatever."

"Well, we'll know for sure, eh, Brock?"

Brock nods lightly. "I guess so, but... know that this is probably the last time we'll actually hold a conversation. If it isn't, the next time it might be with your head in the canvas."

Daniel reclines in his seat, trying to shake off any mental images of him being suplexed mercilessly. "It might be..."

There's still miles ahead for the world-class technician who did almost everything in WWE, but with this magic stuff that Lesnar of all people implied, Bryan might be coming out of this meeting ready to get back in the ring.

Millions of fans might be surprised with what they'll see.

 _And now, back to the more comedic side of the story...  
_

* * *

 _So a Samoan, a lunatic and an English masked guy meet in the middle of a long barren road..._

Where we left off, Roman Reigns and Dean Ambrose have stumbled upon an unexpected third wheel as the road is still long. At least with three guys, the car they've been dragging along the road is a bit easier to move around.

"So, Jervis, how'd _you_ get stuck out here?" Ambrose asks the perplexing masked gentleman.

"Oh, it was a quite unfortunate predicament; me and my good friend Estonian Farmerfrog were on our way to the next event with CHIKARA, and, to put things simply, our vehicle started to come apart at the seams, and I somehow planted into the asphalt. Thankfully I always wear this mask, or I would've experienced quite a scrape. As it turns out, simply using duct tape to make a second seat for a tractor was a horrid idea." Mr. Cottonbelly's explanation seems legit enough to come from a CHIKARA guy, even if it didn't make sense in _every_ way.

"Even for me, that sounds kinda stupid." says Roman, baffled with the kind of guy he and Dean came across.

"Farmerfrog is of a simple mind indeed. Unfortunately, probably too simple considering he hasn't figured out how to fix the brakes. I fear he's still drifting off at this very minute."

"Poor guy." Dean laments Farmerfrog's unfortunate series of circumstances.

"Now what about you two? How did your travels get halted?" Jervis asks, just as curious to hear their side of the story as vice versa.

Dean explains simply and actively. "Popped a tire. Less complex, more just 'poof-pffffftttttt'."

Roman adds on to the establishing couple of sentences. "And now we're just waiting for more guys to help us out. No spares, just been carrying this around for the last... god knows how long."

"Well, I'm sure you're glad that you've encountered a patron to assist you, much like I am to you." Jervis showed his friendliness to the two Shield-mates. "Don't fear, gentlemen, for I'm sure that this road is considerably busy in spots; help could be just a few feet ahead... or coming up to us right now, actually." It feels like luck be a lady from the van coming down the road towards the three misfits and slowly halting right in front of them.

From the lowered window, a young man in a ponytail could be seen in the passenger's seat, looking towards the trio in need of help.

"Uh, Matt, you might wanna take a look at this." the man alerts the driver, who is shown pretty quickly to be a twin brother of his, albeit with a darker shade of hair.

"Whoa, did the Shield go downhill, fellas?" Matt jokes towards the unfortunate three. The joking doesn't seem to matter much to Dean and Roman, as these two twins seemed familiar...

"Well... what were the odds that we were graced with the Young Bucks of all people?" Dean comments, confirming the identity of the van's passengers as PWG and NJPW's Matt and Nick Jackson.

"Well, considering who you guys stumbled upon on the road..." Nick replies.

"Yes, yes, I'm sure it's a pleasure all ways around, but I'm afraid we're in a bundle, Jacksons.," Jervis carried the surprised comments aside, looking for actual assistance now that they've encountered a potential ride. "you see, we've both had unfortunate vehicular incidents, and we would really like a ride into the nearest town, in order for these two to get repairs."

"Eh, we figured as much. How about this; you hop in the back, and we can all find a tow for you guys once we actually get out of this wastleland." Nick makes a compromise that guaranteed that Dean, Roman and Jervis made it safely out of their current situations.

"Oh, splendid!" Jervis responds gleefully.

"Wait, Nick, we still got all those boots and tassels—" Matt reminds his brother.

"I'm sure there's room, man." Nick assures his other Jackson.

All Ambrose could react with was to shrug and say, "Well, what do we have to lose at this point? Alright guys, let's go."

Roman follows suit without hesitation. "Alright."

Jervis follows along as well. "Very well."

Dean goes up to the back of the Young Buck-mobile, prepping to enter, as the doors open slowly for all three of him and his friends to see...

...revealing what is indeed a great big collection of tasseled boots of all colors and patterns.

Roman Reigns replies flatly, pretty perplexed by how the Bucks organized within their van. "Huh. I guess they weren't kidding."

 _T-to be... continued? I guess?  
_

* * *

 **As you can see, prepping for the upcoming FanFiction Wrestling full-time show, I've got a lot of people to show. And even then, some of the guys you've just seen appear aren't even going to be in the tournament itself.**

 **Next time, we finally see if Daniel Bryan indeed seals the deal with Dario and Heyman, and where the makeshift team of Reigns, Ambrose, Jervis Cottonbelly and the Young Bucks will end up.**


	4. An Authority's Interlude

**Prologue, part 4**

 _ **An Authority's Interlude**_

* * *

 _And now, back in Youngstown, Ohio_

With a tapping of an impatient foot, in an office that in itself even looks a bit wrecked, Vince McMahon, Chairman of the WWE, stands with a phone to his ear...

"Come on... pick up, you son of a bitch..." Vince fumes, frustrated with the beeping that continues, looking to get an answer.

" _Hey, Vince, this is Dean Ambrose; sorry I couldn't get to ya, although if you're Steph, you probably understand why-_ "

"DAMMIT!" Vince cuts off the voicemail, having gotten no response from Ambrose whatsoever since the house show ended. He slams his phone down, nearly breaking it (again). Then he screamed out.

"HUNT _ERRRRRRR!_ "

Almost by instinct, the COO enters the room, holding an ear in pain.

"Do you _always_ have to yell, Vince?" Triple H complains in irritation (with a bit of fear that he may have finally caused permanent damage to his eardrums). "What the hell happened?"

"Hunter, you're probably not gonna believe me, but I think we're screwed." Mr. McMahon puts it .

"What do you mean, Vince?"

"I mean all three of our main event guys are gone!"

"Gone as in to Cleveland, or just... gone?"

"Just! Gone! Usually, they'd answer whenever I wanted to discuss with them what we've got planned, but right now, absolutely nothing! They've gone somewhere, someplace, and they've gone completely dark about it."

Triple H questions his father's explanation, most likely making an assumption involving Vince's declining state of mind over the years. "Dad, it could be just that you're overreacting again over your talents; you did the same thing about Brock Lesnar twice the last couple years. How are you not sure they just went to the bar?"

"Hunter, a trip to the bar usually takes no more than half an hour—45 if there's a brawl—but I've been trying for an _hour_ , and I've never gone past that point; something's up."

Haitch face-palms in frustration. "Vince, if Dean and Roman left the building without alerting us, we need to know why. I understand Lesnar wouldn't be here, since he doesn't always have time to be here every day, but the best way we can get an understanding on Dean and Roman having 'gone dark' is if we have some kind of evidence towards it."

Vince gasps in a sense of eureka. "A witness! There's gotta be someone who overheard www _whatever the hell they talked about before they left!_ "

At this point, Triple H actually feels like agreeing with the old man for once even in his close-to-senile years. "Well... honestly, that could work... _if_ we knew if anybody _did_ overhear."

" _Ahemm,_ gentlemen..."

The abruptly-emerging third voice in the conversation peaks both Hunter and his father's interest as well as their confusion, as they turn towards the open door.

Standing in the doorway, perhaps carrying the right info for the Authority, is none other than the Intercontinental Champion himself, the cold and calculated Kevin Owens.

"I heard about your problem with some missing misfits." Owens proclaims, straddling the Intercontinental Title on his left shoulder. "Thankfully, you got someone with good enough ears to handle the situation."

"Cut the crap, you Canadian fat fuck, just tell us!" Vince impatiently shouts to Owens, not hesitating on his words one bit.

"... _As I was saying_..." Kevin continues, _attempting_ to ignore yet another fat insult towards him, as he already had enough of them with Ring of Honor. "I know where Reigns and Ambrose drifted off to. I heard them talking with Brie Bella, and they talked about Daniel Bryan having this quote-unquote 'meeting', and that there wasn't any further detail. They wanted to follow Daniel just to get a good understanding on _what_ this meeting is."

"And they didn't talk about it to us?" Triple H requests an explanation, annoyed about their attitude about asking the Authority coming second. "Ugh, they always have to jump the gun on doing it themselves."

"Well, I guess, considering they are mercenaries." Vince acknowledges. "It's a shame... he was gonna finally beat you for the title at WrestleMania."

Triple H raises an eyebrow. "What?"

Vince quickly looks away. " _What_?"

"Vince, Trips, if you want somebody to help find them for you and drag them back in time for Fastlane... I'm your guy. Free of charge." Owens offers his helping hand to the two members of the McMahon family, extending a hand in a demand to make the agreement official.

"...He's right, Hunter." Vince admits. "He seems like he has devotion to the craft."

"Alright..." Triple H agrees, feeling that Kevin is right, just as much as his stepfather. "Kevin, you got a deal."

Triple H embraces hands with Owens in a completed handshake, giving his trust to the Ring of Honor legend full-time.

"As long as they're back by Sunday. I'll give you whatever push you need if I have to." Vince makes it clear to the Intercontinental Champion.

"Won't let you down." Kevin nods, as he turns around to exit.

As Owens walks away and the door to Vince's office closes...

 _I ain't your friend, and you're not mine_

 _This difference helps me cross the line_

Owens notices the ringtone coming from his black basketball shorts, and answers his cellphone, bringing it to his left ear.

"It's done. I think I got their trust a hundred percent. Now what's next?" Owens asks the recipient on the other line.

" _I'll tell you soon enough, Kev._ _There's no way those two suckers are gonna keep Daniel Bryan away from us, and we all know it. You got that clear?_ "

"Crystal, Paul."

And the call is ended with a solid _**BEEP.**_

 _Uh... to be continued... shit._

* * *

 **...Oh christ.**


	5. A Deal With The Devil

**Prologue, part 5  
** _ **A Deal With The Devil**_

* * *

 _There's a reason why most professional wrestlers are incredibly reluctant towards being grouped with an enemy just for something like a meeting or whatever else counts. One is obviously the trust factor, or the lack-thereof. Another is probably the chances of visiting some unnecessarily eerie and barren building. Red flags all around._

So we're back to the old looking corridor from where we started. The differences start here, as the lights seem to be working at a better rate, giving off only a couple little fizzes here and there. It just simply looked like an average hallway. Albeit a little dirtier than the average building's case. Another difference in the factor is another person added to the lead into the end of the hall alongside Paul Heyman and Brock Lesnar.

"Daniel Bryan, I can assure you, this place will look even better down the line, more so than right now." Heyman reminds the Yes Man, standing between him and The Beast. "For now, I suppose you could consider it the temporary headquarters to our special little project."

"You know, it's weird when you call it a project, Paul." Bryan replies, brushing the bits of dust off of his bushy beard. "Makes it seem like you're gonna do experiments on me that end up with me becoming a slicing-and-dicing superhero with a red-and-black motif."

"You wouldn't like it if we actually planned on that?" Heyman speaks up, fascinated in Daniel potentially rejecting the superhero lifestyle.

"It's more so I was just making a reference." Daniel acknowledges his own previous retort. It's at this point that he's reached the light, or in this case, the door at the end of the tunnel—okay, _hallway—_ and takes a moment to examine, just to be sure. "Uh, you didn't set any traps, did you?"

Paul chuckles. "We aren't expecting any intrusions, Bryan. Besides, nobody's been here in months."

Daniel grooms through his beard, smirking in odd amusement of the building's long-term vacancy. "Well, I'm sure we don't expect anybody looking for a paycheck from this place at this point."

 _Knock-knock..._

Common courtesy aside, Heyman opens the door on behalf of Bryan, allowing him into the office, which itself had a very drastic change, from a desk, chairs and a sole light to a much more prominently lit room that feels less intimidating and more lively and friendly, in a complete contrast to how it started not long before. This felt more at home for most of those who enter, especially for the intellectually-gifted man sitting within the center of it all, Mr. Dario Cueto.

"Daniel Bryan..." Dario welcomes the fan-favorite superstar, having prepared drinks between himself, Daniel and Heyman as a polite offering. "...at long last, I meet the man behind the ever-successful Yes Movement."

Daniel takes a seat in center to meet face-to-face with the man formerly behind the Temple. "I'm sure you're honored to meet me; a lot of people usually are."

"As I assumed. You've had quite the career that helped you earn it." Cueto mentions.

"I can already tell that this will be a very amusing meeting to go about with, considering what we are offering for you, Daniel." Heyman adds on, as he sat down next to Daniel, while Lesnar stands behind them with the lack of any more seats.

"Now that you're here, we can finally reveal to you our plans for the near future," Dario announces. "and of course it _does_ require that you be willing to complete."

"I'm sure you understand that I've recently retired... but I heard from them," Daniel gestures towards Heyman and Lesnar, "that you're able to help 'solve that problem'."

"Indeed, what you've heard is absolute truth; talking with you, I would _not_ lie to someone like you even if God allowed me to." Cueto ensured, putting his pride in front for the 16-year veteran from Washington. "We're here to speak honest to goodness business."

"Yes, we are not here to fabricate or exaggerate. Just for you." says Heyman.

"You guys both have really high hopes on me." Daniel acknowledges the flattering approach to helping him feel welcome with those who he hasn't enjoyed any good memories with whatsoever.

"Well, we consider it a fair trade to make up for two years of ongoing misfortunes. Injuries, a lack of appeal from your authority's consideration, the works." Heyman notes, linking his hands together in an embrace. "It's kinda similar to the frustrations I went through with reviving ECW almost ten years ago."

"We've all seen highs and lows, one way or another, Heyman." Dario takes mention to a similarity (perhaps the only similarity altogether) that all of the men in the office share. "That's why I wanted to enlist all of you for something that could be a benefit to our image; something that I consider a successor to my previous work of violent art."

Daniel begins to realize what the former owner of Lucha Underground is implying... "Wait... do you mean-"

"Yes; A new organization," Heyman reveals on behalf of Cueto. "an organization that could prove a bigger success than Lucha Underground, more than ECW, and maybe soon more than WWE, as long as we manage to keep up the bar that Lucha Underground and ECW raised multiple times in the past."

"But with a new promotion comes what we require, and that is talent. That's where you come in." Dario continues. "We are looking for any talent willing to participate, and we want to bring these stars to us to work, with nothing to chain them down."

Heyman comes back into the conversation, "The first thing we want to do with the talent is to decide a leading man to them all; a champion. A _supreme world champion_. This, however, doesn't guarantee that _you_ could be that champion."

"It all depends on who answers the call to action," Cueto notes, "just like you, and just like Brock Lesnar."

"I've already arranged a couple others to join us as well; we won't name names, so you probably won't know who unless you ask them." Heyman comments with a mirthful grin, leaving the surprises for later for Daniel.

"You guys must have quite some connections." Daniel acknowledges, surprised with the effort that Paul and Dario are looking for as partners. He claps his hands together in temptation with a little bit of hesitation. "Alright... I'm interested. I can see that you want to see yourself to a guaranteed triumph for the ages, but honestly, I am a bit worried about you wanting to beat WWE. It just feels like WWE could beat you back, like they did with WCW and TNA way back."

"We are _not_ like them." Dario guarantees. "We care about quality more than we do about success; violence and skill is what we look for first above almost everything else, with no bias; only a willing to prove themselves by competing for the top spot."

"So somewhat the _opposite_ of what the McMahons believed in?" Daniel makes sure to get it straight.

"Yes. What do you think?"

Thinking it over for a few seconds, Daniel still has to figure out the more mysterious parts of the plans that he was being presented. "Well, I can see your promises are quite full for the most part, but... what I want to know the most about is what you can do to 'heal me', as Heyman and Brock are alluding to so much."

Dario Cueto is _not_ hesistant to begin talking about _that part_ of the deal. "Ah yes, the 'healing process'. Daniel, you may want to stay seated for this one, for this is something that I only share with those willing to work with me."

With that, Dario reveals a small key from his suit, bending down to unlock a drawer near the bottom in his desk.

" _This is an ancient_ secret that sets my family back _centuries_." Dario drives home the point about this 'secret healing process' that D-Bry wanted to know. "From what I've told to the people of Lucha Underground, there were seven medallions that combined to become a 'gift to the gods', but little did they know..."

Out from the drawer, Dario unveils a red-tinted medallion in his right hand.

"...there was another, of a deeper and darker kind. This medallion was conceived by the man who brought me the... _person_ who I consider my brother. It was meant to control him, _suppress_ him, so the world would be safe from him. Another plus side to this was that anybody who got a hold of this could be granted with a great increase in health of any kind they desired, if they ever demanded it."

Daniel Bryan can only look at the sinister-looking medallion, having been taken aback by this artifact.

Dario takes notice. "I see you're quite surprised, but don't be worried about it; from the times it's been passed around, everyone who used it for their own good or others still lived lives as they did without repercussions."

"Daniel, _this_ will change your life for the better." Heyman puts it in less words towards the submission specialist.

Bryan did not know what to say next. "Uh... well... I've— _wow_ , is all I can say... From the base, it feels like something that would come straight out of a story of some sorts, but I'm absolutely just taken right out of my seat."

"Does this help you in your decision, Daniel?" Dario asks, looking to know if this has pushed Bryan any further to supporting him and Heyman.

"...This is all I need to get my career back?"

Dario nods in assurance. "Yes."

On the other hand, Lesnar seems to be getting a little impatient with Daniel's hesitation with his decision, to the point of getting a few words in for the sake of knowing. "Just give it to us straight, man; you in or out?"

Daniel gives his time to think. He understands that for every cause, there is an effect; leaving WWE behind, retired or not, could potentially disappoint the WWE Universe even further from what they were already with his retirement, and the main event rising of those they probably didn't want. His jumping ship could also cause those fans to jump to the other side of what this brings. Although another negative towards WWE, possibly driving him away from WWE, was how mistreated and abused he was in some parts. The decision had to come as soon as possible...

"Daniel.. what do you say?" Heyman asks, wanting a final decision.

Bryan stars down to the medallion in Dario's hands one more time…

…he slowly goes through his thought process _one more time_...

...and embraces the medallion in his hands.

 _You've chosen wisely..._

 _To be continued..._

* * *

 **Even more "oh christ".**

 **Also, I'd like to thank you guys for helping me to 100 views on this story within only three days. I think that says things about the support I'm slowly getting.**

 **Well, next time, we get back to Ambrose, Reigns and the rest of the bunch, as we stumble upon _more_ characters (primarily some fictional characters so it indeed does feel like a crossover) who might potentially join Bryan, Owens, Lesnar and so on in the action that will start in just a few more chapters. Until then, make sure to keep supporting. Again, _thank you._**


	6. A City of Misfits

**Prologue, part 6  
** _ **A City of Misfits**_

 _ **This chapter is what I was planning to moving the story the furthest, with probably being the longest chapter so far (about 4,000+ words by what FanFiction will count it). You'll see the frequency of introduced characters jump a little bit, and we'll start to see a few fictional characters from the other side of the tracks to solidify that this is indeed a Wrestling/X-**_ _ **Over categorized crossover story, and not just a simple Wrestling story.**_

 _ **And before the actual "Tournament of Fate" starts to roll in, don't ask if any characters that you'd like to see are in said tournament; I've already finalized who I want to be involved via the story's cover image.**_

* * *

 _February 20, 2016, 10:29 pm  
_ _Three hours after the Youngstown, Ohio WWE house show, and after the road trip began.  
_ _Location: Somewhere between Ohio and Washington._

From general vision, not much light comes through to the back of what the collective trio has officially deemed the Superkick Party Van, after the guys who opened it for business a few years back.

Dean Ambrose fidgets with his phone, not bothering to waste any more battery, and instead preferring to just toss it around a bit for boredom's sake. Roman Reigns is lying down resting himself, trying to avoid laying on any boots and/or tassels. On the third hand, Jervis Cottonbelly is patiently trying to think up a way to have a 'jolly good time' while playing the waiting game in this van.

"...Anyone comfortable enough to hear a joke?" Jervis suggests.

"Ehh, I dunno..." Dean unsurely responds. "You're not really the best with simple jokes."

"I assure you, this is a quite popular one in the land of Chikara." Gentleman Jervis says. "Why did the cockrel cross the road?"

Ambrose tries to think for a moment, perplexed by the slightly more intelligent wording "...Yeah, I got no idea."

"Well, I'm not entirely sure, but he said something about a 'lucky penny'." Jervis delivers the odd yet amusing punchline.

"Hmmm... mm-mmn." Dean responds with a slightly disapproving shake of the head.

"Ohh... you didn't like it?" Jervis asks worriedly.

"Nah, it's alright, Jerv... it's just, it's probably better told only in Chikara with the goofier bunch."

"Oh. Well, quite understandable; I've never really told in the outer regions of the world."

"Explains a lot." Roman proclaims.

"Alright, this is going absolutely nowhere." Ambrose bluntly proclaims. "Yo, Jacks!"

"Yeah?" Nick Jackson calls out from the front of the van.

"Where's this van even going?"

"Nevada." Nick's brother Matt responds. "Ring of Honor just came back from a tour in Japan. We're about to prepare for the 14th Anniversary of ROH."

"Then we go to California for PWG; you know, Super Dragon, Chuck Taylor, Trevor Lee, the whole bunch." Nick adds on.

"Oh splendid!" Jervis exclaims excitedly. "You're quite the travelers, I must say!"

"Well, anywhere closer to Washington is the best path." Ambrose comments, rel

"How so?" Jervis inquires.

Roman sits up, his hair becoming a growing mess from the house show from earlier. "We're following a friend."

Ambrose asks Jervis, "You know Daniel Bryan, right?"

Jervis responds, "Yes, I know him _very_ well. Why do you ask?"

Ambrose explains in detail, "Yeah, we got worried about him 'cause he sorta just fell off the face of the earth, talking about some odd 'meeting', and for the most part, there's people like us who want to make sure he or the guys he's talking with aren't up to no good."

"Oh _gracious_." The masked gentleman whimpers in worry, shaking in his boots.

"So we drove off, then the—well, you know..."

"Yes, the 'pop!' and the ' _pffffft_ '."

"Then we met you, and here we are. Riding with the Young Bucks of all guys."

"You're welcome." Both Young Bucks respond in unison.

"And for sure, this is definitely going to go down as the _weirdest_ day between the three of us." Roman acknowledges.

"It's probably just you, Rome." Dean corrects the Samoan soldier.

"Yes, I've been in weirder." Jervis proclaims.

"Yeah, you've just never been in Chikara." says Ambrose, adding on to Jervis's implication of being in much weirder situations.

"Eh, true that." Roman admits, shruging off the correction.

And with that, we return to patient silence, as the van rolls on...

 _We'll return to these guys after the next scene..._

* * *

 _Meanwhile, in a new setting  
_ _Location: Albany, New York_

"Alright, everyone, gather around!"

As a result of the situation involving Dean Ambrose and Roman Reigns leaving WWE behind to help a friend, the morale hit seems to slowly hit its developmental territory, NXT, which had just finished its own house show close to an hour ago.

A couple hours after making an agreement with Kevin Owens over bringing Reigns and Ambrose back (which he might soon regret), Triple H heads to New York to arrange an emergency meeting with the hopefuls of NXT.

In the wide space left inside the Washington Avenue Armory where the ring and set were packed back up, Triple H stands before the workers and staff of NXT.

"Now, I'm sure you're wondering why I had to stop by and rally you all here so suddenly." HHH begins. "This doesn't enitrely just concern NXT, but WWE as a whole. A couple hours ago, our good friends Dean Ambrose and Roman Reigns left the premises, leaving behind a very _peculiar_ reason that involves a friend in need in Daniel Bryan, citing that Daniel having a _meeting_ that they were afraid was driving him away from his wife Brie and the WWE entirely _._ My family and I have been left rattled by this quote-unquote 'emergency', and the backstage area has taken a negative effect."

One of the NXT performers, Tye Dillinger, adds in his few words, "So, basically, they just pulled a double Tyler Breeze?"

" _Not_ quite exactly, Tye," Triple H replies, "but _much worse_ , especially considering that both Ambrose and Reigns are supposed to perform tomorrow at Fastlane in Cleveland, Ohio. Even worse than that, I haven't gotten word from either Paul Heyman or Brock Lesnar since our house show ended. This means that _all three_ of the men due for the main event of Fastlane have gone AWOL. With this unfortunate series of circumstances, this has damaged morale, and with no main event... let's just say that there might not even be a Fastlane this Sunday."

The almost-entirety NXT collective groans in frustrated disappointment, and their team spirit has taken a toll as a result of this announcement.

"Are you frickin' _serious_ , bro?!" Zack Ryder shouts in complaint.

"Somehow this doesn't actually surprise me that much." Baron Corbin mutters, shaking his head in disapproval.

"Hunter, you need to control your shit before this gets worse!" Big Cass demands.

"Now calm down, everyone! This doesn't mean the end of NXT!" Triple H assures the roster. "...At least, I'm sure it's not. We've managed to enlist help within the roster to help get everyone back together for Fastlane tomorrow night; our Intercontinental Champion Kevin Owens has made an agreement with me and my father Vince McMahon to be the guy to bring Ambrose and Reigns back to Ohio, so we will be able to compromise the situation before the sun comes back up tomorrow. Does this help with your concerns?"

The NXT general manager William Regal steps forward. "Hunter... if you're sure that Kevin Owens can help fix your problems with the... the growing _exodus_ of superstars, then I say for the entirety of NXT that we're counting on him, and _you_ , to get everything back on track."

Triple H smiles confidently towards the UK veteran. "Thanks for that, Regal." He then turns towards the rest of the roster. "Now, to all of you, make sure to gear up for our next NXT event, while I head back to Ohio; I'll update all of you on our situation tomorrow. Have a good night, everyone."

Everyone disperses, heading out in their own direction, as they prepared for the next NXT show in a few days.

Heading into the parking lot of the armory, the NXT World and Women's champions, Finn Balor and Bayley, meet up with each other.

The Hugger breaks the silence first. "Some night, huh? We just spend our time entertaining the fans, and then next thing you know, all that gets pushed aside because of a couple of guys who wanted to help us out. You understood what Triple H was promising for us, right, Finn?"

There was no response from the NXT Champion, as he seems to be deep in thought. This leaves the Women's Champion confused.

"Finn? ... You okay?"

Finn takes a moment to respond, "Bayley ... something-* _exhales_ *-something just feels _off_."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean there was something within what Hunter said he was trying to do to help us out, about Kevin Owens coming to offer his help to him. Bayley, between you, me, and just about everyone else in WWE, Kevin is _incredibly_ distrustful. Only thinks about himself and his family, and no one else. He isn't the first choice I'd think of in terms of a loyal employee to the McMahon. _You_ should know that this just seems like a bad idea from the start, right?"

The interesting contradiction made in the connection between the Authority and Kevin Owens. "... _Yeah_. That—that actually does seem like—like some kind of bizarro type of thinking."

" _Right?_ This may come as a bit of a stretch, but Kevin has to be up to something behind the scenes."

"You think he has a motive _against_ the Authority?"

"Not exactly. Considering from past experience, he hates Ambrose and Reigns, and he would never help them even if the WWE Universe depended on it. If he wanted to try to drag Reigns and Ambrose back home for Triple H, then he must be trying to keep them away from something. He's got to be a mole under somebody else's plans."

Processing the theory very deeply, Bayley nods in agreement. "Yeah. Yeah, you definitely got a point there." After a brief pause, something else that Triple H mentioned in the situation discussed comes across her mind. "Wait... do you think this also has some connection to Daniel Bryan's situation, with this meeting that no one knew nothing about?"

By this time in the conversation, Finn and Bayley have already gotten up to Balor's car, leaving them finishing the conversation in one standing.

Balor replies, "I'm fairly certain he is some kind of focal point in all of this. I don't know for sure... but I think I should find out."

Before getting a few more words in edgewise, Bayley sees Balor entering his car. "Wait, Finn, where-"

"I gotta find Dean and Roman, warn them about Kevin. I'm sorry, but I need to find this out for myself."

"Finn, I don't think you need to do this alone-"

"If we just leave it be, who knows what the hell could happen if Owens got to them." The sound of Finn's car starting up rings out to both of the NXT superstars. "Again, I'm really sorry."

With that, Finn Balor shuts the car door between him and Bayley, making his leave...

...only to realize a mistake when he sees the worried Bayley in the passenger seat, having gotten her way into his car. He naturally is annoyed. "God dammit, I unlocked all the door-* _sigh_ *" Ultimately, he gives in to his current predicament and briefly admits defeat. "Alright. Fine. I guess we're going at it together."

"Finn, I guarantee that together, we'll be a lot stronger than alone." Bayley assures Balor

"You sure?"

"We're both champions, aren't we?"

Balor chuckles, taking that fact under brief consideration. "When you're right, you're right."

With a kickstarting screech, Finn's car drifts off into the night, with a path to discover ahead.

 _And back into the more establishing stuff..._

* * *

 _I don't know where between Ohio and wherever we are right now yet. We'll know for sure soon._

 _ **SCREECH-psssshhhhh...**_

"Wait, why are we stopping?"

"Sorry, guys; gotta make a pit-stop!"

Matt and Nick Jackson emerge from their van, heading off somewhere off in the distance.

The back doors of the 'Superkick Party Van' then burst open, with Ambrose barging through boot after colorful boot.

"Oh come the f—where even _are_ we now?" Ambrose angrily asks, finding himself and the rest of the trio in an unlabeled grocery store's moderately-sized parking lot, in a not-quite-full part of town _somewhere_ ; Jervis and Roman calmly follow Ambrose out of the van, having less trouble maneuvering through the torn-down footwear mountain.

"I have no idea." Roman responds.

"A simple but unfamiliar town." Jervis assumes. "Who knows where in the country we are."

Roman crosses his arms. "Seems like an innocent part of town."

Jervis looks around, noticing the near-emptiness of the block. "I wouldn't entirely trust it; not even back in Chikara, is it always so calm."

"Alright, guys, get comfy for the moment." Dean Ambrose stands in front of his other two partners-in-travel. "Guess we're getting sidetracked _again_ , but at the very least, not for long."

"Oh, I certainly hope Daniel will be okay by the time we get there." Jervis voices his worries.

Dean replies, "By now, I can't be sure if we're too late or early."

"Dean, I don't think _anybody_ knows." says Reigns.

Just seconds after Roman's retort, the (intentionally-unnamed for the lack of product placement's sake) store's front doors burst open, and all three of the grouped-up traveling partners turn around to notice.

Dean sighs, relieved of his impatience considering the situation of the time being. "Man, that was quick— _holy moly_ , guys!" And then Ambrose notices the Young Bucks emerging from the story with a literal cartload of beer, oddly enough of many brands, in their arms (which somehow fit through the double-doors of the store).

" _Oh dear_." Jervis proclaims in surprise. "Just what do you intend to do with all of those alcoholic beverages, gentlemen?"

"Well, we kinda got a text from Big K." Nick Jackson explains (in case the beers have trouble blocking their view, just assume he's on the right from Dean's POV). "He said he was gonna go to Los Angeles for a get-together, and needed our help getting some beer."

Roman raises an eyebrow, taking notice to the unfamiliar nickname that Nick mentioned. "Big K?"

"You know; Big K!" Nick repeats. "You guys work with Kevin Steen, right?"

Dean is slow to the realization. "Kevin St—... _oh my god_."

Jervis steps up to the facepalming Lunatic Fringe. "What's the problem, Dean?"

"Something you wouldn't follow well, Jervis. You don't know the guys in WWE like I do."

"Jervis, you might want to step aside a bit while we talk about this." Roman makes a consideration towards Jervis, who complies immediately and steps off to the side.

"Uh, is there something wrong?" Matt Jackson inquires, confused about Ambrose's frustration.

"Bucks, that guy is the last guy that should be in the way of this whole adventure we've been on." Ambrose replies. "He's been my rival for months now!"

Both of the Young Bucks stare confused. Nick speaks up, "...and that troubles you _how_?"

"Yeah, there's no way Kev's gonna cross paths with you and Roman." Matt recommences for his brother.

"What makes you assume he isn't?" Ambrose contradicts the Jackson twins' responses. "You guys should know he's not the most loyal guy around."

Matt denies the assumption. "He is to us! Mount Rushmore, dude!"

Roman buts in on the conversation. "Look, does anybody even give a damn about Mount Rushmore anymore?"

" **AAH!** "

Roman and Dean turn towards a startled Jervis, holding his ears out of fear.

"What's wrong with him?" Reigns asks.

"You might not wanna swear too much around Jervis, Roman." Ambrose explains under a hushed breath to stray from any unnecessary eavesdropping. "People like him are a little sensitive to... _family-unfriendly_ stuff."

"Yeah, he's kinda like that." says Matt, setting down his fair share of the stacks of beer.

"Must be a true home-grown guy," Nick adds, "considering you barely know anything about the other companies."

" _ANYWAY,_ " Dean Ambrose interrupts the Jacksons, getting back on track with his hatred of Kevin Owens (or Steen, I guess). "if we could get back on the subject, get back in the Superkick Party Van, and get to D-Bry however possible before Kevin potentially gets in our business, now would a good time!"

Nick itches his right shoulder in hesitation. "Ehh, I don't know..."

Matt follows it up, "It's probably not a good idea for us to let down Kevin like that."

"Yeayeayeah," Dean hurries Nick and Matt along, "You can bring him the beer however, but we need to get to Daniel as soon as possible before-"

 _ **SMASH!**_

All five guys flinch heavily in a startled reaction to the loud crash of metal behind them, and turn around to see what caught all of them off-guard so suddenly.

"Good gracious!" Jervis shouts in surprise, as he, Dean, Roman and the Jacksons take their moment glancing off to the street behind them...

...where an oddly big red tractor has just smashed into the back of the Superkick Party Van. At the seat of the tractor is a man in a frog mask and a flannel vest, waving off to the group.

"Yhello!" The frog-masked man greets with an odd European-ish accent. Hindsight shows that we should probably be able to figure out who this man is pretty easily given the clues of the past.

"Aw man, you wrecked the van!" A distraught Nick Jackson approaches the heavily damaged van.

"The boots!" Matt follows his brother to their vehicle.

"Farmerfrog! Are you alright?!" Jervis asks, surprised by his good friend's abrupt arrival.

"Never a better, actually!" Farmerfrog responds. "I finally stopped the tractor from tractoring! What a coincidence to see you here, Jervis!"

"It's a great convenience to catch back up with you; I've been drifting around for a bit since I fell off!"

"Eh... you fell off?"

"Yes; couldn't you notice?"

"No, couldn't hear much noise. Remember, I became mostly deaf in both ear." ( **sort of a reference to something he mentioned on a newLEGACYinc video, for those confused** )

"Ohh... somehow that fact didn't cross my mind even though it was right in front of me."

Ambrose and Reigns are left unable to speak for the moment, trying to process the odd imagery in front of them.

"Okay... now we see this doesn't concern us much." Roman realizes.

"Not right now, not really." Dean agrees.

"Alright, good news and bad news..." Nick re-exits the moderately damaged van. "Good news, the van still drives as good as ever."

Matt follows his brother out. "Bad news is it looks like turd right now."

Jervis shudders. "How unfortunate."

Still sitting on the big-ass tractor, the Estonian Farmerfrog waves down to Jervis to come back to the tractor. "Well, hop up, Cottons-Belly! Still a long way back to Chikara Land!"

"Well, I'm sorry; I would love to, I really would," Jervis rejects. "but I'm a little worried about that tractor's fragile set-up. I'm afraid I'll fall off and get stranded again in the middle of nowhere."

"Nowhere? Silly-belly, we're in Denver!" Farmerfrog corrects his British masked friend.

"You guys could ride with us." Matt Jackson suggests, offering the van off to the two Chikara stars.

"The back's kinda screwed up, but we think there's still room." says Nick.

"You bring up quite a bargain, gentlemen." Jervis acknowledges the offer given to him and Farmerfrog by the Young Bucks. "What do you say, Farmerfrog?"

Farmerfrog thinks it over for literally only a few seconds before answering. "Well, it would be sad to leave this old tractor machine behind... but brakes over breaks any time." Farmerfrog then hops off the tractor, landing surprisingly perfect on the ground.  
"'Till we meet again, steed of red."

With that, the Farmerfrog taps on the tractor in a thankful show of friendliness... and then the tractor starts rolling off, going completely backwards from the path leading up to the Superkick Party Van, passing by any (likely) previously-occurred collateral damage caused from its initial arrival.

All that the independent wrestlers respond with are stares of silent bewilderment.

"Well then. Off we go, I guess." Jervis heads towards the scratched and dented van.

The agreement between the Chikara midcarders and the Young Bucks has been officialized. The men of Chikara enter the back of the fairly unconditionally bumped-up van, and the Jacksons return to their place in front, before the Superkick Party Van heads off.

Unfortunately, it seems that this leaves the strong lunatic duo of Roman Reigns and Dean Ambrose behind in the dust.

"So now that they're out of the way," Reigns turns to his less-sane partner. "got any bright ideas, Dean?"

Dean cricks his head towards his Samoan associate. "I thought _you_ had a plan. At this point, I was just willing to get all the goons off our backs. I just didn't expect them to take our way of getting around with them."

After a brief few milliseconds of silence, music can suddenly be briefly heard, muffled. Dean's face scrunches in confusion as he looks back at Roman again.

"That your phone, dude?" asks Dean.

"That's _your_ phone." Roman responds.

" _Oh yeah_." Dean remembers. "We swapped ring-tones. Right, I'm gonna take this, and you go look around this pile of asphalt for somebody to help us out."

Ambrose walks off to the side to answer his phone in wherever provides the least amount of disturbances, as Reigns exhales and takes a brief stroll around the parking lot of the outlet they were unluckily parked near, looking down at the ground at an attempt to clear his mind. Nearby, two patrons take notice to Roman's solemness.

"Uh... hello?"

Reigns looks back up at the sound of a voice, meeting with two unfamiliar faces. One, a redheaded girl, and the other a brownish-blonde short-haired guy. Both seem to be about 20 years or so old, probably about a couple years past high school graduation, from an initial assumption.

"Hey, uh, you..." The guy stops to adjust his glasses, "...you alright, man?

"It's nothin'." Roman responds. "Just having trouble getting around the country with a friend of mine. Car got effed up, then we met up with a bunch of guys, then we ended up here."

"Sounds like you're in a bit of a hurry for something." The redhead quips.

"We kinda are." Reigns replies, "Wanted to catch up with a friend of ours, and he's a way's away right now."

The redhead itches the back of her head, "That's a bummer..."

Roman continues, "Now we're just looking for someone else to help us get the rest of the way to our destination; you think you could hook us up?"

"Ehhh, I don't know," The guy before Roman hesitates, "there's no knowing who can be trusted for help around here."

"Where I come from, I'm pretty sure I've mastered the knowledge of trust." Roman assures. "I have no trouble with you guys because you both look pretty innocent yourself. Makes sense how you'd have problems helping me out; I look like one of the more dangerous guys around here, but I have a strong heart to go along with it."

The redheaded girl smiles. "Yeah, you're really starting to grow as a nice guy, now that you say that."

The blonde guy follows up, "I'll see if we can 'pull a few strings' and get you and whoever your friend is on the road as soon as possible."

Reigns smiles in response, "Nice to hear that, man."

* * *

 _(No, this isn't going to a different scene somewhere else, it's just that there's a bit too much already detailed.) **  
THUNK-THUNK!**_

The car of the two that Roman has met seems to be a bit of a nice, sleek kind, colored a pale navy blue.

"So where are _you_ two headed?" Roman curiously asks, seated in the back.

"A friend of ours is getting us together for a little party," The guy with glasses explains, from the passenger's seat, "Nothing too big, but we wanted to bring some stuff over before we got going."

The redhead continues on behalf of her friend, sitting behind the steering wheel, "We're off to celebrate the life of a friend of ours who kinda... well, for the most part, _vanished_." The enthusiasm slightly lowers from her face from recollecting that memory.

"Whatever it is, sounds like something you didn't want to remember." says Reigns. The redhead nods, a tad forlornly. "Well, whatever gets us closer to Washington, the better."

"Change of plans, actually."

Everyone in the car jumps up in surprise, as Roman Reigns takes notice to the returning Dean Ambrose suddenly sitting next to him.

"...How the _hell_ did you get here?!" Roman asks, genuinely startled by Ambrose's sudden reemergence.

"The back doors were still unlocked." Dean responds with an oddly rational answer.

"Ugh, god _dammit!_ " The redhead in front realizes her mistake, "I always keep forgetting to lock!"

"Well, to be honest, it _did_ take you three tries to get your license..." Her friend comments, immediately being met with her reply.

"One more than you."

"Who are these two?" Ambrose asks, puzzled by the two unknowns in front of him and Roman.

"Oh!" The blonde guy remembers that unmentioned detail between him and his friend towards the other two. "Sorry, I guess we forgot we haven't been properly introduced." He turns towards Dean and Roman, "So, _I'm_ Chris and my friend over here," He gestures towards the redhead, "is Ashley."

Ashley waves sheepishly. "Hi."

"Nice to meet ya." Ambrose greets as he shakes Chris's hand. "I know a guy named Chris; he kinda has hair like yours, but he didn't have glasses. He had a light-up jacket though, and I still haven't understood why."

"I can see you're getting along with Dean." Roman mentions, ready to introduce himself. "I'm Roman, by the way."

"Okay, now that we all know each other's names now, I wanna talk about what I was about to talk about." says Dean.

"Yeah, I think we all need to know, because whatever this was about Washington is literally the first thing now that needs an explanation." says Ashley.

"Alright, so," Dean starts, "I just got a call from Balor just now, for some odd reason, and he told me that Kevin is indeed coming for us, and that he should _not_ be trusted. Well, no shit, right?"

" _And_ that is just more confusing now; who the hell is Kevin?" Chris inquires, he and Ashley becoming even more perplexed.

"He's none of your concern right now." Dean assures them. "And from what I remember about what Matt and Nick said about Kevin, he's in Los Angeles for some reason."

"So he _is_ planning something." says Roman, wanting to be sure.

"I'm surprised that _you're_ surprised about Kevin, Rome, considering what I went through with him. Man, I _knew_ he had to be up to nothing but bad shit."

"Well, I guess we know where to go now."

"Guys, I'm sorry for butting in, but I just want to point out the convenience in what you guys are talking about, because we know a friend in L.A." Ashley points out. "We're actually on the way there right now."

"We're coming full circle, guys." Dean realizes. "Also, for what?"

"They're on a way to a party about a possibly dead friend." Roman answers on Ash's behalf.

Dean suddenly feels a bit unsettled from the 'possibly dead friend' thing. "Well, that's kinda dark."

"Yeah, just please, _please_ don't mention that too often." says an uncomfortable Chris. "It's only been a year since."

"Sorry 'bout that." Ambrose apologizes. "So, setting course for Los Angeles, fellas?"

"Ready when you are." Ashley responds, hands gripped on the steering wheel.

Dean starts bouncing in anticipation for the next road ahead. "Alright, let's get going! As soon as possible, here we go!"

The fully-packed car then begins to cast off into the near-midnight, ready to make its way across the country...

...but not without a mysterious watcher from the sidelines keeping focus...

* * *

A curiously unknown woman in green shrouded in moderate darkness watches through night-vision. She seems to have been looking on for much longer than we've seen.

She smirks in amusement, lying in wait...

 _To be continued..._

* * *

 **With the departure of some colorful indy wrestlers comes less colorful individuals with an interesting foundation laid for their past memories. I guess you win some, you lose some.**

 **I kinda had to leave you on something to try and figure out without many details, but the one clue I can give is that the 'woman in green' is a fighting game character, and that she'll be revealed soon.**

 **Until next time...**


	7. Everything Comes Together, part 1

**Prologue, part 7-1  
 _Everything Comes Together, part 1_**

 _ **This is the first of three chapters that will help introduce the other major characters in the story, mainly those involved with the Tournament of Fate just a bit down the line.**_

 _ **I have also comtemplated upping the rating of the story because there might be more swearing with who's showing up in this chapter, and the violence might be a bit over the line for a T rating. After I post this chapter, I'll figure out if I decide to go to Rated M or not.**_

 _All the characters used in this story are owned by those of other companies, including, but not limited to, WWE, NXT, New Japan Pro Wrestling, ECW, Lucha Underground, El Rey Network, Chikara, Ring of Honor, Combat Zone Wrestling, Supermassive Games, Microsoft, Rare, Iron Galaxy, Double Helix, Netherrealm Studios, Disney, Capcom and Hasbro. This will give an indication of who to expect in this story, besides the story's cover._

* * *

 _February 21, 2016, 2:20  
Quite some time after midnight, and after where the story began...  
Location: Los Angeles, California_

As a Saturday has turned into a Sunday not that far off from when we left off, the usually-active streets of LA have faded into much more barren and much darker streets, with only a mere fraction of the amount of Californian citizens walking by left in the minuscule illuminations of street lights.

Again we focus in on the travels that we've established from the near-beginning, within a car amusingly camouflaged in dark blue in the shadows of a quiet city.

" _Lunatic's Log: Hour...erm, six? Seven? Eh, I've lost count. The search for the goat gone AWOL still rolls on. Much has changed drastically from where we began, from the car we ride in, to the people we've met. From the experience me and Roman have taken on, turns out taking a trip with a bumbling Englishman in a mask and two guys who superkick more than they eat was a pretty fuckin' stupid idea. Still we wonder where the road ends, and if another is just around the corner, but for now, the wheels just keep turning... and turning... and turn-"_

 _ **HOOONK-H-HOOOOONK!**_

Dean Ambrose snaps away from the half-open back-door window near him, his being startled breaking his mental focus.

"Do you mind?" asks Dean. "I'm tryin' to vent over here."

Ambrose's attempt at an inner monologue seems to be causing some mild discomfort in poor little Ashley, who is clearly not a hundred percent focused (or awake, for that matter), based on her increasingly disheveled orange/brownish hair and the dark purple/pale pink beanie slowly falling out of place on the top of her head, with every hour of sleep lost.

"At this point, I would _really_ like a bit of silence to focus on _not falling asleep at the wheel_." She groaned, staying slumped onto the steering wheel, within an attempt to keep driving ahead for her fellow passengers.

"Ah come on," Dean denies, "people get help going from the sound of my voice all the time."

"She's kinda right, Dean; you are getting a bit annoying." Chris objects on behalf of his companion, looking almost as tired as , leaning back in his seat. "At the least, it's probably worth helping you two out."

"They got a point, Dean." Reigns nods towards his partner, looking a little restless himself, but not much to make a difference.

Dean looks to try to respond, but reconsiders a bit quickly after, his hands drooping to the sides in a temporary defeat.

"Geez. 3-on-1." He proclaims forlornly. "If I was John, this would be easy mode."

Ambrose's eyes drift away from the others in the car with him, and off towards the streets they pass by. He visually collects the objects that zip past his line of vision with every second.

Lamp post... another lamp post... at least three guys sleeping on benches... two dogs that are definitely doing more than just wrestling around... the Staples Center, bright lights on and all— _wait a minute_.

" _Stop the car_." Dean demands, a tone of sternness in his voice.

The car halts suddenly upon demand, with a loud rubber-burning screech.

" _Whaaaaat?_ " Ashley whines in frustration, forehead-deep into the steering wheel before her.

Dean keeps an eye out the window, towards the stadium in question..

"Guys, tell me; is the Staples Center normally open this late?" Ambrose curiously inquires.

"I'm pretty sure it's not usually open _at all_ at this point." Chris responds, just as confused as the Lunatic Fringe is.

"Looks like something worth checking out." Roman considers, actually quite amused.

Dean smiles intriguingly, as he leaves the car to scope out what he considers an abnormal clue to his travels. He turns around after taking a few steps, almost as if he almost forgot about something.

"Yo, Big Dog! You comin'?" Ambrose asks, insisting to his Samoan best friend that he come along.

Roman shrugs. "I guess," He responds, "but I kinda have a bad feeling about this."

That being said, Reigns prepares his leave from the ride.

"A-are you guys gonna be coming back?" Ashley asks in worry, briefly stammering over her own words due to her restlessness.

Roman shakes his head, unsure of what's to come, and replies, "...I dunno. Don't know if we're being lured into a trap or not.

"Godspeed, Big Dog." Chris proclaims, saluting flippantly to Reigns in an attempt to create a sign of good luck for the Samoan Superman.

Reigns smiles back, humored by the use of one of his odd fan-given nicknames.

Having gotten up to one of the tens of doors around the Staples Center, Dean Ambrose tugs on the door handle in an attempt to get a way inside, and then knocks to try and get the attention of someone from the inside.

"Hello?" Ambrose asks, as Reigns catches up with him to the doors, "Anyone home?"

Hearing no response, not even a footstep, from inside the arena, Dean sighs in disappointment.

"What, are these guys deaf?!" Dean asks towards Roman in frustration. "If this place is being used for something, then someone's bound to hear, right?!"

"Whoever's in there is probably hiding something from us." Roman responds, "Whatever it is, is probably a secret that involves Kevin Owens, and, if we're lucky, Daniel Bryan might have something to do with this as well."

"Secret, sec- _shit!_ " Ambrose retorts with a shout.

 _ **SMASH!**_

With that being said, Dean Ambrose, embracing his lunacy, headbutts through the door, shattering glass and giving the two Shield brothers an unlocked entry into the building. Surprisingly, Ambrose is left unscathed from his Plan B maneuver.

"Christ, Dean!" says Roman, having been taking by surprise by Dean's sudden violent retaliation.

"What? My backup plan _always_ involves wrecking shit," Dean gives his reason for such an impatient man-on-glass assault, "you should probably know that by now."

Dean forces the door open with the handle from the other side, and enters with ease, stepping on the many little pieces of glass shattered around the door with small little crunches.

"This isn't so bad..." Dean mentions, as Roman follows him through the broken door.

"Are you sure this place might help us solve our problems?" Roman asks quizzically, looking around the empty halls of the arena (as far as we know). "You know, with Owens and D-Bry?"

"Trust me; when I see something that looks very off, my first thought is 'Yeah, something shitty's going down'." Ambrose assures Reigns. "I'm usually right."

"Yeah, you usually are. Doesn't always have a good vibe, though. Remember when you said 'Don't trust a handshake from the Authority' at Survivor Series, and then Sheamus screwed us over?"

"To be honest, a lot of people saw it coming. Besides, I think it's best to forget that title reign over happened. Didn't know how to prevent it without the both of us being bashed to crap by the end."

Dean and Roman continue to travel around the barren wasteland of a Los Angeles arena; both men feel uneasy over the eerie atmosphere. Usually, the Staples Center is lively, and filled with people awaiting certain sports events, such as football or hockey, or on occasion, one of WWE's instances of performing in front of a Californian audience (usually for SummerSlam). Right now, with only two people roaming the silent halls, it just feels... dead.

Although it can be thought otherwise from Ambrose stumbling upon an odd sight not too far from where he stands.

"Hold on a sec..." Ambrose says as he approaches yet another interesting sight...

…a lone can of aluminum standing still upon a small table off to the sight.

Ambrose picks up the can, looking closely to notice that it is a beer can, and is a bit perplexed by the peculiarity of just something being left behind.

"Huh. Looks like somebody left something behind." Ambrose says, before shaking the can lightly and hearing a slight swish of liquid. Using a Sherlock-style sense of thought, Ambrose assumes, "Not even empty. Roman, what do you think this means?"

"It means you gotta think before you grab somebody's beer, you dumb sumbitch!"

Dean and Roman look off in the direction of the voice, genuinely surprised whne they suddenly meet face-to-face

Ambrose looks back down at the beer in his hand and puts two and two together, pretty quickly realizing. " _Oh_. Sorry, Austin." Dean apologizes.

"Well, you _oughta_ be sorry." Stone Cold responds, swiping the lukewarm can of alcohol from the Lunatic Fringe's hands. "So what the hell brings you two here anyway?"

"We're kinda thinking the same with you." Roman responds, acknowledging how sudden Austin's apperance is to them.

"The fat-ass walrus called me, tried to arrange a partnership or some shit." Stone Cold responds bluntly. "I didn't come to negotiate with him; I came to give him a piece of my mind."

"The walrus? Wait, Heyman?" says a quite confused Dean Ambrose.

"Why would he want you?" Roman asks. "He's already got Lesnar."

"Whatever he wants, I'm calling bullshit on it." Steve Austin voices his dislike for Heyman and whatever he is involved in. "He even said something about healin' me. What, does he think he's a wizard or somethin'? Damn fat bastard should know not to trust me since I bailed on ECW."

Austin's relentless cheap shots towards Heyman get a bit of laughter out of an entertained Dean Ambrose.

" _Anywaaaay_... we came by to find our buddy Daniel Bryan." Roman Reigns gets to his explanation, wanting to fill both sides of the story between the three.

"Also—hold on..." Dean finishes up his laughter, still off a humored high. "...also, we heard about Kevin Owens coming to L.A., so there's another layer of shit that might be going down over here. Thinking that Kev and Heyman are in kahoots together, now that we know they both have involvement between us."

Austin puts a hand to his forehead, getting more annoyed with knowing someone like Kevin Owens aka Kevin Steen is possibly in leagues with Paul Heyman. "What, is the League of Fat-Asses coming together? Next you're saying that inbred fucker Bray Wyatt's offerin' 'em dead goats in exchange for a handjob or some weird bullshit!"

"Wow; no chill whatsoever." Reigns says, blown away by the Texas Rattlesnake's increasingly more vulgar pot-shots towards his and Dean's past rivals.

"When you're away from WWE and its PG rating, no matter how much they push past the radar, you can say whatever without any censorship." Dean mentions, smiling with amusement from Steve Austin's golden tongue of non-PG insults.

"This guy knows what's up." Austin points out Ambrose's confidence over the lack of limits outside of WWE. "1st Amendment to its fullest."

"So is it just the three of us here?" Roman asks, looking around for any other attendees in the Staples Center.

"Nah, there's a couple others just hangin' around all over this place, waiting to see what's up like we all are." Austin responds. "I think one of 'em tried to kick my ass back over there, but they oughta know they're messing with Austin 3:16."

"Damn straight!" Dean agrees with the Rattlesnake, knowing that there's not many who are as strong as someone like Stone Cold.

"Guess that means there's more for me and Dean to figure out in this place." Roman realizes, now that he and Ambrose know that there's others in the Staples Center besides them and Stone Cold.

"At this rate, we'll probably have to cover more ground to get more of a story in this goddamned place." says Ambrose. "So far, we know that Daniel Bryan got pulled into this situation without his intention, then there's the two fat fucks who I wouldn't be surprised if they were fucking, and then Stone Cold's here to probably kick their asses, and... yeah, this whole situation is still really fragmented to shit."

Roman Reigns gets a bit of an idea on the next part of their adventure. "We should probably consider splitting up; you know, cover more ground and scoop up a lot more clues to get a better understanding with what Heyman has planned, what Bryan, Owens and Austin have in terms of being involved in it, and who else he may have gotten to."

"Think you got the right idea, Roman." Ambrose agrees.

"If you guys wanna scope out this place, see what shit there's left to find, fine by me. With any luck, no one dies by the end of this." Austin puts his trust into the idea that Ambrose and Reigns are considering.

"Alright then; Roman, you can take the path off..." Ambrose looks around for a moment, before pointing off to the left of the center. " _That_ way, and I'll go this way, and we could rendezvous in a bit. Austin, you got our back, right?"

Stone Cold nods. "Damn right." he says. "If you guys get in some shit, trust me to get around to help ya."

Dean smirks, satisfied with the agreement, as he begins to walk off to the right from where he stands. "That's good enough for me. Later, guys."

"Good luck, Dean." Roman wishes towards the Lunatic Fringe, as he walks in the opposite direction.

And so, there's still much more to be discovered within this web of mystery...

 _To be continued..._

* * *

 **I wanted to go a little longer on this chapter, but I didn't want to take that much longer than I needed to. What was originally a 2-part arc to introduce all participants of the Tournament of Fate is 3 or 4 parts, depending on how I feel about going broadway with the length of the chapters.**

 **Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Next time, we meet some more interesting characters, including a man I can describe as a psychotic "gangsta", a young yet unconventional princess, a group of sinister seductresses, and more.**


	8. Everything Comes Together, part 2

**Prologue, part 7-2**

 _ **Everything Comes Together, part 2**_

 _ **In case you are getting a little confused by the amount of plotlines in this fanfiction (or skimmed through the first few chapters), here's a recap on who is involved and which plots in the story they connect with.**_

 **Characters we know so far with some involvement in the story:  
** **Paul Heyman, Dario Cueto, Brock Lesnar:** The masterminds behind this new company they're arranging.  
 **Dean Ambrose, Roman Reigns:** Looking to find Daniel Bryan.  
 **Daniel Bryan:** Convinced by Dario Cueto and Paul Heyman to join them after an exposure to a mysterious artifact.  
 **Stone Cold Steve Austin:** Out to kick Heyman to the curb before his plan advances to its next step.  
 **Kevin Owens:** Secretly working with Heyman, after convincing Triple H and Vince McMahon to let him help them.  
 **Triple H, Vince McMahon (+ maybe the rest of the Authority):** Worried about Fastlane being in jeopardy over the main event's participants being absent, leading to them "working" with Kevin Owen **s.  
** **Finn Balor, Bayley (NXT)** : Out to confront Kevin Owens under massive suspicion.  
 **Young Bucks (PWG/NJPW), Jervis Cottonbelly, Estonian Farmerfrog (Chikara):** Patrons who helped Roman Reigns and Dean Ambrose across the country.  
 **Brie Bella:** Counting on Ambrose and Reigns to help.  
 **Chris, Ashley (Until Dawn):** Helped Reigns and Ambrose get to Los Angeles, now tired as hell.  
 **The "woman in green":** To be revealed in this chapter.

 **Officially re-rated as M due to a lot of cussing from certain characters, and some detailed, and often bloody, violence later down the line. Disregard any earlier chapter that says it's rated T.**

 **Also, thanks for 400+ views; it means a lot that I have quite a bit of support from others.**

 _All the characters used in this story are owned by those of other companies, including, but not limited to, WWE, NXT, New Japan Pro Wrestling, ECW, Lucha Underground, El Rey Network, Chikara, Ring of Honor, Combat Zone Wrestling, Supermassive Games, Microsoft, Rare, Iron Galaxy, Double Helix, Netherrealm Studios, Disney, Capcom and Hasbro._

* * *

 _Location: The Staples Center (still)  
_ _Somewhere close to 3 AM in the morning..._

There seems to be no regret with the idea within the first minute of setting his plan into action, as Dean Ambrose wanders off with a clear mind. Although after the creative roasting to Paul Heyman, Kevin Owens and Bray Wyatt (the last of the three of which so far has no involvement in the story whatsoever) by Stone Cold Steve Austin, the thought of Heyman and Owens jerking Bray off with goat carcasses in the background is something worthy of getting as many lobotomies as possible just to get rid of that imagery. Thankfully, at the very least, just taking a stroll around the stadium is refreshing in some way, even if the atmosphere isn't all smiles to the world around Dean.

Now that he knows that he, Reigns and Stone Cold are definitely not alone in the Staples Center, the Lunatic Fringe looks for more people looming around the building just to get some more clues over what is of concern towards Paul Heyman as well as what's towards Daniel Bryan.

It takes Ambrose a few minutes of walking without a break to finally notice a new face in the Staples Center from a yard or two away. The Lunatic approaches the slightly familiar man with slight caution.

Carrying a garbage can of assorted weapons including a guitar, a crutch and some road signs and wearing an attire of primarily camouflage patterns, the ECW alumnus New Jack meets face to face with the Lunatic Fringe.

"Looks like you're coming for one hell of a fight." Ambrose comments on 's extreme preparation in case of a war in the ring.

New Jack smirks towards Ambrose, very amused with Ambrose's trashy look. "So you're a part of the next generation of crazy motherfuckers?" he asks.

"In a way, you're on-point." Dean responds, smugly grinning from ear to ear with quite a lot of confidence.

The Original Gangsta smiles as he and Ambrose give a hard fist-bump in respect of each other's work. " _Maaaaan_ , how you fuckin' doin', man?" New Jack asks, solidifying that there are no bad vibes between the two.

"All in all, I've been having one hell of a time."

"So what brings ya to LA? You get an invitation like me or some other shit?"

"Nah; a friend of mine is getting into some business over here, and me and a bunch of other friends got here to make sure everything was working out alright. So you got a personal invitation here?"

"Yeah, man; Paul Heyman called me up, said he was looking back to the past; nigga said he wanted to consider working with some of the old ECW guys with this new place here in Cali."

Dean's eyes slightly widen, a little confused by what New Jack meant. "New place?"

"Like a new wrestlin' show or some shit. Heyman said he wanted to do with this new gig what he couldn't with ECW, and get on fuckin' top. Sounded pretty damn good with how he said it, and here I am."

Dean is even more perplexed with further info being spread out in front of him. "...Wrestling show?"

"Yeah; and he ain't working alone, apparently. He knows this guy who had this shitty temple; I think his name was Dario _Culo_ or somethin'?"

"Dario Cu-" Dean stops himself in realizing who New Jack seems to be talking about. He itches his head in a bit of worry. "...Well, shit."

The Gangsta raises an eyebrow in confusion to Dean's negativity towards that new news. "You okay, Jon?"

"Okay, first, it's Dean now," Ambrose begins his response, rejecting his indy-circuit name for the time being, "and second... I dunno, man. I've heard about the Dario guy, and from what I've heard, he's been running his place with a lot more flair than Triple H and the Authority have over where I work. Already, I feel like some shit's gonna hit the fan, especially with Heyman under a helm like his. A big fat one, no less."

"Well, how the fuck would _I_ be worried about that? WWE never came to me to work for them. Makes sense there's a line of psycho they wouldn't cross."

"And that kinda leads me to another reason I'm here, Jack. There's this guy, this big fat guy who never takes his shirt off, and some of the guys I've talked with on the way here said he was here. So I came by and now I'm just hoping he doesn't try to screw me over."

"Good to know what shit you're steppin' in, but you got _your_ problems, and I've got _mine_ to deal with. Nothin' personal, but I don't wanna get sucked into your shit too quickly."

"Yeah, don't worry; me, Roman and Stone Cold have it cover with the problems we've got on our own."

The Original Gangsta quickly becomes quite pleasantly surprised with the mention of Steve Austin's most notable nickname. "Oh shit, Stone Cold's throwin' his shit into the ring, too?"

"Well... kinda. He said he wanted nothing to do with what Paul Heyman was planning on."

New Jack scoffs, "Pfft. Not surprisin' from a guy who bailed on Paul so far back."

"But now," Ambrose continues, "we're just splitting off just so we get a good understanding on who else came to LA for this 'wrestling show' Dario and Paul are going for, while making sure not to get fucked up by anybody."

"You sure you don't wanna jinx yourself, Dean?"

Dean winces slightly from noticing the familiar voice from not too far behind him. He turns around slowly...

...and meets face to face with Kevin Owens, still carrying the WWE's Intercontinental Championship despite his increasing view of disloyalty and dishonesty towards the WWE.

"Don't bother trying to make yourself look like a hero; they never bother to stick with looking like a homeless person who only got his job so he can beat the crap out of people." Owens proclaims, not stopping for a minute his burning rivalry with Dean Ambrose.

"Hey, cut it out, you fat fuck." New Jack retorts to Owens, annoyed with Kevin's blunt disrespect.

"Was I talking to _you_ , New Jack?" Owens responds. "I'm sorry if I don't want to be bothered with a man who assaults old men, cracks skulls, stabs people in the wrestling ring, and commits attempted murder on people just because they call _themselves_ 'Gangstas' like you."

"Oh, you just beggin' for a cracked skull yo'self." New Jack threatens the Canadian Wrestling Anti-Christ.

"Kevin, don't try to make this any worse than you already made it at the Rumble." Dean tells Owens off.

"As long as you're out of the way, and Paul and Dario have their way at all times, I won't need to step on anybody's toes. My family's counting on me regardless, and I don't want anybody screwing me over." Owens responds matter-of-factually.

The connections between Owens and the promoters of this new wrestling league seem to be proven correct within Dean Ambrose's mind. "So you _do_ work for them?"

"What, was that not clear to you already? Is your 'wacky' brain all out of knots today?" Kevin authenticates his insulting of Dean's intelligence by knocking on Dean's forehead like the one bully you wouldn't want to cross with.

Dean keeps Kevin out of his face space. "You have fucked up priorities, man."

"Whatever." Kevin shrugs Dean off, as he walks past him and Jack, whilst keeping his Intercontinental gold over his shoulder at all times. "I've got shit to tend to. Nothing you fuckheads would give a fuck about."

As the Canadian bruiser trots away from his much-less-sane adversaries, exchanges his grimace of annoyance with a thoughtful smirk, deep in thought of something.

New Jack curiously approaches behind him. "Hey... You thinkin' of givin' a fuck, man?" He asks.

"Maybe." Ambrose responds. "Or maybe I'm thinkin' that Canada's not so glorious after all. Not after the Blob was done with it."

 _More is certainly yet to come between these guys, we're all for sure..._

* * *

On the other side of the Staples Center, Roman Reigns looms around the halls. While Ambrose's stroll around the Staples Center seemed more relaxed and nonchalant, Roman's was a bit more careful and controlled, as the mercenary with the devastating punch was more of an intelligent and strategic fighter, wanting to know more about his surroundings than the Lunatic Fringe ever considered.

Given what Stone Cold has mentioned, there may be someone out to attack whatever moves. A bit of a crazy thought, even in Reigns' mind, but he was willing to take that chance.

What leaves the plan Ambrose has arranged between himself and Reigns aimless, however, is the fact that all he practically said was "split up and look around for others just in case". _Soooo_ just in case _what_ exactly? Does he just want to know who's a bad omen within the premises or not? I guess, considering you never know who's aligned with Heyman (and Cueto in the process) or not. This is pretty much a good half of what's on Roman's mind, the other half being " _You never know who's watching...just keep looking...always looking-_ "

And suddenly the feeling of a small baton-like object pointing onto the back of his bulletproof vest catches Reigns off guard. He swears he could feel a bit of an electrical tinge off the tip of whatever's poking him in the back. Not a good sign.

He hears behind himself a very unfamiliar woman's voice, demanding "Hands where I can see them."

Who Roman hears seems to be deploying a tone of grim menace in her voice. To be fair, it seems to be working for him in a way, as his hands raise up to shoulder level, carefully and slowly. However, given who's he's dealt with for the last five and-then-some years of being a soldier brawling in the ring, he still manages a smile against this woman potentially looking for a fight, even with Stone Cold's warning about these dangers of going it alone somewhere like this.

"I don't think you realize this, but a guy like me," Roman retorts, "doesn't think twice about caving someone's sneaky face in."

"And I really don't _give a damn._ " She replies, her object of prodding growing with a harsher push on Roman's back.

His right hand preemptively forms a fist, ready to fire like a shotgun willing to blast someone's face off.

 _And. **Fire.**_

Reigns takes an incredibly sharp turn, ready to keep up on his promise, as he unloads his Superman Punch, wanting to do nothing but shatter a skull.

Unfortunately, his rocket-like speed is so very suddenly outmatched, as his adversary sinks towards the floor in evasion. What Reigns also doesn't expect are two long legs wrapping around his neck, whipping him across the hall with a hurricanrana-like attack.

 _Damn, she's quick. Hell, she's got legs that could kill..._ Roman mentally comments to himself. _Luckily I know how to break 'em._

The legwork his opponent of the opposite sex is showing gives him further motivation for an all-out brawl. Reigns blindly charges forward from the direction opposite of his drift across the floor, going for attempt #2 on the Superman Punch, hoping it would guarantee an advantage towards him.

Once again, he is suddenly trumped in terms of speed, only able to be made out in his vision as a blur of green, as she flips right over his head, using his shoulders as elevation, and strikes him in the back with a dropkick.

Once again, Roman crumples to the floor. " _Fuck!_ " He groans in frustration, as he stamps down on the floor with a hard right fist, before rising back up as if it was nothing.

Getting a much clearer view for a good few seconds, Reigns visually acknowledges his female opponent's noticeable motif of green in her attire, and hair of pitch black, much like his. He also sees what could be considered a set of weapons that seems to uneven the odds against him, in the form of two batons, almost like escrima sticks, glowing with a yellow tint of electrical energy.

Roman charges like a bull once again; the third time certainly has to be the charm here. Having to consider planning on the fly, Reigns braces towards a possible counter hit, which quickly comes to fruition when this unsung woman of mystery throws a swift roundhouse kick in an attempt to knock him off guard...

...Primarily based on his luck, Roman manages to catch her leg to try to stop any last-second alternative rotations to her strike. After a bit of rotation with him trying to keep her on defense, springs for a dragon screw leg whip on the fly, assuring a mixture of flat-out strikes and some wrestling background to go along with it.

She manages to avoid getting laid out altogether, as she adjusts to land back on her feet. Still holding onto the stun batons with all her life, she prepares to put them into use for once.

She swings at the Samoan Soldier with a multitude of strikes with a tornado-like maneuver, mixing in a few axe kicks mid-flight. However, none of the strikes seem to make any physical contact with him, as Reigns has quite quickly adjusted well with the much faster style of the woman in green.

Finally managing to get the battle swinging his way 100%, Roman locks the woman of mystery down with a quick hammerlock, forcing her on one free arm. He grips onto the baton in the one hand he's keeping under control.

She retaliates with mad athleticism, wrapping her other arm around Roman's neck and throwing him down in front of her. Unfortunately for her, he takes the baton he held onto along with him.

One more time Roman goes for the rush-down, now that the pair of weapons have been split evenly between both sides...

...and this time he seems to succeed, as he tackles the adversary down with a demolishing spear!

With batons clashed, Roman and his opposition find themselves deadlocked, sprawled on the ground in an MMA style clutch. After this clash between the two fighters, with little knowledge of each other, both are left a bit exhausted as a result.

"Well, what do you know?" Reigns retorts with a victorious leer, keeping a good look into his opponent's deep brown eyes. "One for me... one for you."

She smiles back, impacted by being overtaken so suddenly. "Not bad." She admits.

Roman adds, "Next time, make sure you know who you're dealing with."

"Well, I had no trouble getting the last couple guys out of the way." The woman in green replies, ignoring her position, being pinned down on the marble. "Figured you wouldn't be any more difficult..."

"Oh really?" Reigns raises an eyebrow in amusement, as both fighters help themselves up to their feet with slight difficulty, both wanting to take a bit of a breather from their spontaneous violent encounter.

"...So what brings you here, trying to beat the shit out of people?" Roman asks, curious about this woman's 'attack first, ask questions _maybe?_ ' methods.

"Just... out on a mission." She responds.

"You working for somebody?"

"I work alone, actually. Just trying to serve justice on my own terms."

Roman smirks, amused to have found one glaring similarity between himself and this mysterious woman. "So I guess you and I are on the same page when it comes to justice."

She continues her explanation, "...I've been lurking around the country, trying to figure out where everyone's been traveling to. Whatever it is, it led me here, of all places..."

"Well, I wasn't just following a path; me and a friend of mine have just been looking for another friend of ours." Roman responds, giving his side of the story. "We've kinda been going through several shades of a weird Hell with the guys we've been meeting along the way. For now, we're just as curious and baffled as you to get all the way to L.A., like you."

" _Hey, Rome!_ "

Roman looks off to the side, "Speaking of friends..."

At this point, Dean Ambrose happens to catch up with his Samoan best friends off of some odd timing, after his earlier encounters with others.

"So I've been scopin' around and I ran into a couple other guys-" Ambrose begins to explain, before something catches his eye pretty quickly. "...who's she?" He points towards the green-clad female by Roman's side.

"This the friend of yours?" She asks, just to be sure that this isn't just another complete strange to her and Reigns.

"Yep." Reigns answers, before turning to Ambrose. "Dean, I don't really think it's a good time to just come butting in so suddenly."

"Well, I'm sorry if I feel the need to know who this fine pair of tits is with you, and what I missed." Ambrose responds, taking a risk in his blunt and honest retort.

The annoyed vigilant clearly shows a massive enforcement of self-control, as her mind very immediately tells her ' _Punch this fucker in the face_.' Reigns helps her keep calm by holding her back.

"Don't let him get to you." He assures her. "He's kind of a basket case."

"Yeah-no seriously... I'm pretty sure we should all at the least know each other's names if we need to talk at this point." Dean tosses the blunt comments that risk any unneeded assault, focused more on just trying to be social.

"Yeah, you're probably right about that, Dean." Roman agrees for the most part.

"At this point, I don't think much of an introduction is needed," The woman in green rejects the idea, "given I've done a bit of research of my own following you here."

Dean's eyes widen lightly from the wave of realization. "Wait, you've been spying on us?"

"Is there a problem with that?" The female speaks against Dean's surprised reaction, arms crossed around her bust.

"...Well, you're lucky I don't hit many girls." Dean assures her. "At least... not anymore."

"So let me get this straight; if you've done your research, I suppose you already know I'm Roman Reigns." Roman says, just to be sure of the woman's knowledge.

"Of course; the professional wrestler and all-around fighter, real name Joe Anoa'i, former champion. Loved by some, hated by most." The woman in green makes an example out of the two former Shield members. She then approaches Ambrose, driving her new-found research home with him and Roman. "And given the first impression here, and some context I've overheard from you two right now, your friend here must be Dean Ambrose."

"Yes, ma'am. And don't worry, I'm _kinda_ already dating someone. _Please don't stomp my face in_." Dean assures the woman that he displayed a bit of harshness towards. The last sentence, spoken quickly, makes it clear that he is trying to make it up to her in order to avoid any trips to Pain Town anytime soon before he gets to the bottom of these countless mysteries.

"You _definitely_ need some form of therapy." She comments on Dean's quirkiness.

"The last time someone said that, the therapist turned out to have more fucked up memories than me." Ambrose retorts, remembering an odd part of his past in the WWE. Carrying on, he continues, "Soooo do _you_ have a name at _all_?"

"For so long, my real name has been considered classified." She replies. "Alternatively, back in the agency, they call me the Black Orchid. Just simply Orchid for short."

"Wow, that's... that's actually sort of a cool name you got there." Dean voices his amusement.

"Don't try too hard to be a kiss-ass, Dean." Orchid bluntly warns Ambrose. "I really don't like it when people just try to be all 'buddy-buddy' with me; I don't _do_ friendship for the most part."

"So you're an agent? I'm guessing that means you could help us out, help us figure out what the fuck exactly is being planned." Roman considers the offer of a potential helping hand from the green bruiser.

Dean lights up, realizing another part of usefulness for him in this situation. "I think I could provide a little background; you see, a little birdie on the other side of this place told me that a little new wrestling circuit is being arranged around here, and Paul Heyman and Dario Cueto," Dean steps towards Orchid, "who I'm sure you'll be able to get info on in no time, so there's probably no need to ask," then he steps back to his explanation, "are the ringleaders of this little circus that's coming together."

"For an unstable guy like you, you tend to keep a lot of info in." Orchid assesses Ambrose.

"He's more connected to his brain than you'd think." Roman denotes. "Since we know the foundation of what's going on, I think the best idea is just to keep going and see what else is in store."

"Whatever it is, it's safe to say we all have a bad feeling about this." Orchid proclaims.

"Kind of a shitty cliché line, don't you think?" Ambrose negatively comments.

"Dean, stop. Just... stop." Roman halts Dean's snarkiness.

"Roman, let's just get going before I rip this lunatic's throat out." says an agitated Orchid, being the first to start making another path around the building. "I don't think we'll be needing any cold-blooded casualties on our hands."

Dean and Roman look at each other for a brief moment, both a little reluctant to this new-found partnership, one of many thus far. Dean shrugs, as they both follow Orchid down the countless corridors.

 _At this point, there's isn't much that one could expect getting around this place, with all the individuals getting involved. Who knows what will come next?  
_ _To be continued..._

* * *

 **Chapter 7-3 will be coming by in the regular schedule of between a few days and a bit more than a week, as usual, but I'd like to thank the hundreds (around 400+, not counting repeat viewers) who stopped by and took a look at the work I've been having some priority with. Thankfully I'm not as 'writer's-blocky' as I usually get, so hopefully there won't be much of a hiatus when it comes to this story, although for the story that this is considerably a prelude to the madness of, I probably wouldn't say the same.**

 **Until next time, Lordryu says good night! (or morning, or where-ever.)**

 _ **RIP Eiji Ezaki, aka the FMW legend, Hayabusa  
**_ _ **1968-2016**_


	9. Everything Comes Together, part 3

**Prologue, part 7-3  
** _ **Everything Comes Together, part 3**_

 **This chapter concerns the path that crosses both pairs of Chris and Ashley, and Finn Balor and Bayley, bringing them together.**

 **The final part of this mini-arc, most likely the one where the characters seen in the last couple chapters (Austin, Ambrose, Reigns, Orchid, New Jack) meet other individuals who have yet to be properly introduced, that unites all the characters into one setting will be where Dario, Heyman, Lesnar, Owens and Bryan step back into the story.**

 **Rated M for some "fucks", "shits", other adult words including the rare N-bomb (thanks, New Jack), some blood in later chapters, maybe some fuckin'. You know, the works.**

 _The characters used in this story are a combination of real-life personalities from wrestling companies (WWE, NJPW, ECW, Lucha Underground, Chikara, etc.) and fictional characters belonging to various companies (Microsoft, Supermassive Games, Netherrealm Studios, Disney, etc.)._

* * *

 _February 21, 2016, 3:30  
_ _Outside the Staples Center once again..._

More individuals begin to arrive in Los Angeles, led to the Staples Center under only a bit of knowledge and motivation. Most of the people following this mysterious path to something according to Heyman and Cueto's plans are on a self-imposed mission based on who they are friends or enemies with, their curiosity, and many other, more minor, factors.

NXT Champion Finn Balor is one of those people on a mission of their own. After finding news of the debacle involving Dean Ambrose and Roman Reigns' depatures from the building on a mission to find Daniel Bryan, and even further news of Kevin Owens being willing to help find them himself, Balor immediately considers Kevin's helping hand flat-out bullshit. After reluctantly allowing a tag-along in fellow friend and NXT Women's Champion Bayley, they pretty quickly made their way to California from New York, with Dean and Roman helping out to get them all together in Los Angeles (well, off-screen they did, between chapter 6 and 7).

At this time, Balor arrives to the rendezvous point that many others have found the end of the initial path.

If there is any indication from the moment the Irish wrestler exits his car, it's that the parking lot leading into the arena was still very empty (not entirely, though), but the building was still casting some light; this was definitely the right place.

"Are you sure this is our stop?" Bayley asks unsurely, as she follows Balor out. "I wouldn't exactly trust someone like Dean to give us road directions."

"This is definitely the place. Trust me, I can tell."

The Women's Champion looks towards the building, a bit unsettled by the very lack of other people roaming around, whether inside or outside. "Jeez; with the lights on but barely anyone around, it almost feels like a ghost town around here." She comments. "Pretty creepy."

"Don't worry; we won't be out here for long." Balor assures Bayley, looking around the lot just to be sure. After a few seconds, he then adds, "Besides, it definitely feels like we're not alone."

The Irish-born prospect turns his focus towards a dark blue car nearby ( **a familiar one, no less, from a couple chapters ago** ) where he parked, looking very out of place in this dark, lonely and late part of Los Angeles.

From closer inspection, it becomes very clear to Finn and Bayley that there are passengers inside, one guy and one girl, and they are both in some deep sleep. They look quite innocent to the naked eye, and even if it seemed suspicious, to Finn and Bayley, even then the people in that car still seem like absolutely good souls. ( **What I said at the start of the chapter gives a lot more indication on who the sleepers are** )

" _That_ just warms my heart so much..." Bayley acknowledges how stunningly cute the couple looked together. Curiously, she then asks, "Do you think they're... a _thing_?"

Balor smiles, humored by the Hugger's often-goofy sense of over-politeness. "A better question would be 'Why are they sleeping here of all places?'" He asks.

 _Time for a perspective shift..._

Chris and Ashley are two innocent friends who know what it's like to go through hell; a nightmarish experience, up in the mountains of Canada just a year prior, has bolstered their relationship, and heightened the loyalty between them. Unfortunately, by the time it was over, they figured out that this was at a cost of a long-time friend.

Escaping the past back to their shared hometown of Denver, Colorado, after a bit of mental rehabilitation through therapy, Chris and Ash have readjusted back to normal life completely, almost as if what happened to them last year was merely just a simple lucid nightmare. Since March of last year, their lives have escaped the bowels of abnormality.

That was, until they met Dean Ambrose and Roman Reigns.

As a result of meeting them while on the way to help with a party on the day before it starts, Chris and Ash have ended up going to California. Although definitely not as horrifying as their cabin nightmares of last year, it certainly still is almost as stressful, as a result of them both losing sleep thanks to it.

At the least, they can manage to get their energy back with a bit of rest, as long as Roman and Dean are busy with their own misadventures.

Sad to say, but the road out of normal life that they have taken is knocking once again. This time, not just figuratively, but literally.

Upon the sound of a knock on one of the car's doors, Chris surfaces slowly from his well-needed slumber, not startled much, but taken aback still. Looking out the window to see two unfamiliar people near the car, one a man in a simple casual black suit of sorts, and the other a fairly young woman in jeans and a hoodie that seems to be hiding some more colorful clothes behind it.

Taking a moment to keep his glasses from falling all the way off his face, Chris nudges Ashley with a lightly-pushing elbow, in an attempt to wake her up

"Ash? ... C'mon Ash, wake up..." He whispers, to accompany the waking prods.

" _Huuuh_?" Ashley groans, awakening drowsy and confused, with one small case of 'bed-head' and an increasingly crumpling beanie upon her head. She then looks off to the side at the unfamiliars standing by their car. "W-who are they?"

"I have no idea..." Chris gives his potentially correct answer. "...A couple of Dean and Roman's friends, maybe?"

…

"Hello?" Finn Balor grips further attention towards whoever is in the interior of the car, with another couple knocks on the door. Bayley waits with Balor in anticipation of their first impression of the two within the car.

The window winds down as its ginger-haired driver makes eye contact with Finn.

"You... you need somethin', sir?" Ashley asks, her tone quite quiet and exhausted due to her tired state of mind.

"I'm sorry if I interrupted anything that you and your friend were doing, but we came here to meet up with a couple of friends," Balor explains, as his Irish accent shows as audibly noticeable to the patrons before him. "but... well-"

"We wanted to know if we are in the right town." Bayley picks up immediately from where Finn left off.

"Uh... we're not 100% sure," Chris responds, on behalf of his much more fatigued friend. "but whoever you're talking about might be in that building over there." He points towards the still fairly lit Staples Center.

"Alright. Think that's all we need to know." Balor assumes the best from the direction that was pointed out to him.

"Look, I'm sorry for needing to ask, but who are you exactly, and what are you two even up to?" Chris asks, extremely curious and a little suspicious of who they could be and what they might be planning.

Balor cooperated with the two Colorado-born citizens, and the two began to introduce themselves to .

"If you must know," Finn starts, "my name is Finn Balor and this is my cohort and close friend Bayley." He taps the Hugger on the back lightly, to pass their explanations off to her. "Alright, Bayley, go ahead, give these two the rundown."

"Well, we're kind of on a... 'self-imposed mission' of sorts." Bayley explains, "We heard about a situation a few hours ago involving somebody who worked with us and a few other guys that he's working with now, so we got out on the road."

Then the NXT Champion continues from there. "Then a couple of guys near Nevada told us where we could find him; what they mentioned led us here."

"If you're willing to help out, just be careful around anyone you barely even know." Bayley notes, following Balor.

"So, like you are for us, for example?" Ashley acknowledges the slight flaw in Bayley's choice of words.

For a brief moment, the hug-happy wrestler is momentarily stumped. She mentally backspaces on her advice, "...Okay, anyone you haven't _talked to_ , be cautious whenever possible."

"Eh, _A for effort_." Balor comments under his breath to himself, acknowledging slight misstep and her salvaging attempt. He looks off towards the Staples Center one more time, very willing to scope it out.

Chris lightly shrugs in acceptance to the heads-up. "...Alright, duly noted." He then glares towards his life partner. "You got it, Ash?"

"Yeah, we'll keep that in mind." Ashley adds, as she wearily rubs her temple to mend any headaches brought on by her lack of sleep caused by this impromptu trip to Los Angeles.

"Cool." Bayley proclaims, with an assured smile.

"So, we're all in the clear, right? No need to overexplain something?" Balor asks, to justify if there's enough info between the four to group up properly.

"I... I think we're good." Ashley answers, stopping to yawn partly through her response.

"Yeah, I know we just met, but given who we've met, I think we've got a bit of luck with who we run into." Chris rejoins. Then he quickly remembers. "Oh, the name's , by the way."

"And Ash is short for Ashley." The forthright redhead additionally affirms the two NXT stars, as she comes around to fighting her restlessness.

"It really is nice to meet the both of you." Finn replies, ensuring his and Bayley's trust to Chris and Ash with a handshake for the latter.

However, the handshake is prematurely broken when someone soars by a very abruptly fast speed, forcing Balor and Ashley to let go of each other, mainly reflexed by their startling surprise. The sound of a motorcycle comes very clear from the passer-by.

"Whoa!" Bayley jumps back, taken aback by the brief blur of quickness passing right by.

"T-the _fuck_?!" Chris expresses his own surprised reaction.

" _Holy shit._ Who was _that_?" Finn Balor asks, his curiosity peaking from the driver's unintended scare.

"Whoever it was, they nearly fuckin' took my hand off." Ashley retorts, as she clings onto her wrist, relieved from not being directly caught in the crossfire.

The man formerly known as the "Real Rock and Rolla'" looks towards the Staples Center, where the motorcyclist in question aims towards. "...Looks like that person's going into the building."

 _One person catches the attention of four others. A new pathway of personalities opens._

* * *

Removing her helmet and letting a mixture of crimson red and faded yellow hair free, Sunset Shimmer looks back as she straddles her motorbike, and assesses the damage that has already been apparently done. A shattered, open door, having spilled glass everywhere, is the center of her attention.

"Talk about breaking and entering." She retorts, amused by the sight.

The yellow-tinted personality dug into her black-shaded jeans, the same color as her leather jacket, and pulled out a scroll of sorts.

"Well... on the bright side... I think I just about made it, based on whatever _this_ is."

The scrolled-up sheet of paper in her hands unfolds into flier that seems to presumably advertise whatever the Staples Center holds.

It reads, under chalky black text on the white surface:

 _ **Within every soul, a fire still burns  
**_ _ **Somewhere, redemption you will earn  
**_ _ **Follow the coordinates correctly, and you will learn...  
**_ _ **1111 Figueroa St, Los Angeles, CA 90015**_

* * *

Back in Ohio, an older set of hands holds a flier containing the same words on the exact same format. It seems like these fliers are spreading across the country, from California, to Ohio, to god knows where else.

Mr. Vince McMahon, somehow recognizing the handwriting of the flier, keeps his increasing anger under wraps, as the amount of anger he releases comes in the form of him forcing everything on his desk off to the floor of his office, with one clear swipe.

The WWE Chairman sits down, recollecting the small bit of information that the cryptic piece of writing entails, only has one thing to say...

"... whatever you're planning _this_ time... don't you dare take away anybody essential to me along with it...

 _...Game on, you hell-raisin' motherfucker_."

 _To be continued..._

* * *

 **Originally, I could've had Sunset meet Chris, Ashley, Balor and Bayley outside the lot, and have a couple other characters get involved in the conversation, but given last chapter's length, I wanted to shorten the next chapter and not have this run on any longer than last time.**

 **Next chapter has Sunset encounter some old enemies, as well as an unexpected follower. Either that chapter or the chapter after that will include more involvement with the Authority. I won't know for sure. Depends on how much I feel like writing when I get to that.**

 **Until next time... I'm hoping I won't catch the WWE's injury bug.**


	10. It's Gonna Get A Little Weird

**Prologue, part 7-4  
** _ **Everything Comes Together, interlude (aka It's Gonna Get a Little Weird)**_

 **We escape the previously-established set of characters set up from the last few chapters, in exchange to meet a few new individuals, in this interlude akin to that of the one involving Vince, Triple H and Owens a few chapters ago.**

 **If you don't know about Equestria Girls: Rainbow Rocks, then you'd probably have to do your research if you want to go ahead. Or just ignore the fact that you probably don't know them and carry on anyway. Your choice, not mine.**

 **Rated M for some "fucks", "shits", other adult words including the rare N-bomb (thanks, New Jack), and some blood, starting in this chapter. _It's gonna get a little dark and lewd what Sunset encounters and what she experiences, so warning in advance._**

* * *

 _The characters used in this story are a combination of real-life personalities from wrestling companies (WWE, NJPW, ECW, Lucha Underground, Chikara, etc.) and fictional characters belonging to various companies (Microsoft, Supermassive Games, Netherrealm Studios, Disney, etc.)._

The first thing someone usually does when entering unfamiliar territory on a night like this is check their surroundings. Sunset Shimmer's first train of thought defaults to this, as she examines the husk of a building that the Staples Center turns out to be so late at night.

"Now, the question here is, _where to next_?" She inquires to herself, as she digs the flier that led her here into the back pocket of her jeans.

For first things first within this place, Sunset notices quite a few doors spread across the long and wide halls of the interior. No idea which are locked and which are unlocked.

A curious mind takes risks sometimes. In Sunset's mind, the line between a risky path and a safe path is a bit blurry, given that her life has already experienced enough insanity for her to not hesitate worth shit against the supernatural and/or the psychos.

The red-and-yellow rebel approaches the first door, the _very first door_ , of a blue tint, and grabs onto the knob without as much as an attempt to sense if anything was offbeat around this building.

Locked.

"Alright; next door." Shimmer confirms this door's leading to nowhere, and carries on.

She tries a door just a few steps to the left of the other. This door is of a more red hue, unlike the first door's blue. Like the first, she tries the handle of the door. Same result as before.

"Dammit." She mutters softly, getting a little frustrated with the increasing amount of dead ends that she begins to consistently approach.

A few more doors of varying colors of red, blue, brown and gray are tried by Sunset, in a desperate attempt to try to keep following the path. There is no difference with each knob grabbed and turned.

That is, until one door at the end of the hallway sparks her surprise, the round handle turning further to the right, confirming it as unlocked.

"Gotcha."

Now all that's left for to figure out is what's behind this door. At this point, it's probably too late to let go of the door; it could be a path into more interesting territory that could reveal to her some sort of info behind the mysterious flier that has been copied and spread across the United States (and maybe even further). It could potentially be just as likely a trap. _Or_ it could just be a big ol' hall of nothing. Just more walking and doors.

Well, there's only one way to find o— _ **VZZZRT!**_

Sunset yelps in surprise, experiencing a very sudden sharp feeling of pain around her right hand. She drops like a fly, to the ground, and plants ass-first onto the marble floor. The swift and hard drop to the floor briefly rattles her tailbone, providing another brief sharp pain as she falls. She rolls off onto her left side as she holds her hand and writhes around.

"What the _fuck_?!" Shimmer exclaims, incredibly bewildered, and perhaps a bit regretful for not considering it 100% as flat-out bait for someone to take a hold and be victimized as a result.

The end result of this victimization is a deep laceration in her hand, leaking blood at a fairly steady pace, forcing her to keep her damaged hand under grips.

Within a few seconds of her misfortune getting the best of her, Sunset hears a collective of several voices coming together in a brief fit of laughter. She very easily realizes who these voices belong to, as she sees three pairs of legs approach her sprawled body.

 _You have GOT to be kidding me..._ Sunset complains inwardly, as she recognizes the blimp-sized hairdo quite clearly.

" _Awwwww_... such a shame." Adagio Dazzle, standing in center in her trio, coos mockingly towards the red/yellow-haired victim. "How the sunny have fallen, and they've fallen farther than we could imagine."

"Ugh... look who's talking..." Sunset retorts, struggling a bit, as she bends forward in an attempt to get up. " _No one_ falls deeper when they start building stuff almost straight out of a fucking _Saw_ movie."

The blue-skinned girl, Sonata Dusk, giggles in satisfaction. "That was all _my_ idea, and _proud_ of it!"

" _Hooray_ for you." Shimmer snarks flatly, caring more about just getting the hell out of there more than dealing with the _Dazzlings_ one more time.

Sunset, her strength to get up fading fast from the increasing amount of blood releasing onto the floor, struggles on her hands and knees to crawl past the three sinister bimbos. She could rather bleed out than to confront these power-whoring succubi one more time.

However, they say otherwise, it seems, as Aria Blaze, the more purple-toned of the group, stamps down on Sunset's horrifyingly-wounded hand, halting her in her blood-trailing tracks. The crushing boot further worsens Shimmer's health, as the blood pooled around like a sink's faucet.

"Care to get comfortable... or at least as comfortable you can get right now." Adagio kneels down to the girl suffering before her. "It's clear we have business to catch up on... especially after last time."

"Rrgh... what the hell do you want?" Sunset demands through bottled anger, pain and frustration, experiencing such physical distress from 's boot keeping stillness on her mutilated hand.

"Don't be too afraid..." The head siren assures Sunset, "You aren't our _first_ priority."

At this point, Sunset has stopped struggling with the entrapment pin-pointed on her hand, as Adagio continues.

"Let's just say that we come looking to _redeem_ ourselves in our failures. I _think_ you know what we mean with the intention we bear..."

As she speaks, Adagio crawls over Sunset's body, messy with blood around the right arm, and slips a hand into the back of Shimmer's black jeans, taking the message that promised 'redemption' into her grasp.

"Hey!" Sunset gasps, washed over by a feeling of violation as Adagio practically cops a feel of her behind. She tries kicking at her adversaries in an attempt, but Aria's sole scrapes at her sliced hand, gaping the wound further.

Whilst in pain, Sunset retorts, "You sluts don't even know the meaning of personal space, do ya?"

Adagio laughs, amused with Sunset Shimmer's misfortune at the hands of the Dazzlings. "You're so cute when you're tortured."

The leader unfolds the sliver of paper taken from Sunset. " _Within every soul, a fire still burns. Somewhere, redemption you will earn._ Speaks to us perfectly, don't you think?"

" _Fuck you._ " Sunset grits her teeth in a tight grimace as she groans out her rude response.

"You're probably right; who even cares what _you_ think?" Adagio proclaims, as she stands back up straight to tower over the downed Sunset. "Aria, release her."

The aggressive partner of Adagio complies, freeing Sunset's hand from her clutches. The bleeding within the cut still continues, albeit not as fluidly and immensely, but the end result has left a very noticeable pool of blood where the hand laid.

"Looks like one hell of a fuckin' mess down there." Aria comments, as she scrapes the blood off the heel of her boot. "Can't say we aren't proud of you for bleeding so much, Sunset."

Sunset rises to her knees, as she voices her confusion. "What the... the hell do you even mean?!"

"Remember the Battle of the Bands, Sunset? Remember what you _did to us_?" Adagio reminds Sunset, pointing out the lack of neckwear around her and her cohorts' necks where their gems once were. "Ever since then, we've been trying to find an alternative to help us regain our strength."

"It wasn't until recently that we _did_ find an alternative; something vital." adds, as she enthusiastically dips a finger into the moderate amount of blood swimming on the ground.

"Vital?" Sunset raises an eyebrow, as her bloodied right hand was cupped in itself tightly.

" **Blood.** " Adagio responds with eerie seductiveness in her tone, as she stares longingly into Shimmer's wound.

Dazzle watches as a very light yet consistent oozing of blood slowly leaks down Sunset's hand. The stream, in the siren's eyes, practically beckons her. Sunset can only stare in bewilderment of Adagio's answer as the seductress extends her tongue to meet the leather-clad woman's golden-toned hand, slowly catching the dark red liquid, tasting with sheer lust in her ruby crimson eyes, pointing back at the light-blue eyes glaring back.

Upon a reflex, Sunset retracts her hand forcibly from Adagio's tongue, increasingly feeling intimidated, and disgusted. "You're sick. You're all sick fucks, you know that?"

"And again, proud of _all of it_." The bubbly Sonata repeats her previous statement, proving how despicable these three devilish women can be, with or without necklaces.

After savoring the taste of Sunset, Adagio begins to clarify. "At first, we weren't very concerned with the liquids of others, willing to absorb harm within the bedlam of others instead of inflicting it directly, but things changed... for us, for the better."

"Think of it as a throwback to the myths of those vampires that everyone talks shit about." Aria notes, "Only this time, our lust for power's going to make it a reality. Besides... you seem like a good sport to help provide for us."

"Provide—what the—no!" Sunset immediately rejects their idea of 'providing' for them. "What you're proving right now is _every single reason_ for me to not willingly be your personal blood donor! I am _not_ a fucking blood bank!"

"Awwww, how cute!" Sonata cricks her head sideways blissfully. "She actually thinks she _has a choice_."

And then Aria sternly drones out, " _Grab her._ "

Blaze and Dusk lunge at Shimmer, taking a hold of her arms as they force her down to the floor.

Sunset struggles heavily against the sudden attack from the sirens, as she is slowly pulled down and laid onto the spread-out stains of her own blood.

As Shimmer struggles with her predicament, screaming and kicking in frustration to fight her opponents, something strange begins to emerge back where her motorbike sits. Something within the duffel bag that Sunset brought along just in case she was going to be out for a while began to move and shake.

Adagio climbs onto Sunset, straddling her hips tightly to further decrease her chance of escape. She feels around in Sunset's blood pile and takes a small sample into the fingers of her left hand.

"Just accept it, sweetie. Eventually, you'll understand that your sacrifice helps us all in the end." Adagio ensures Sunset in a promise that definitely can not be considered a good gesture.

The siren's blood-covered hand lowered down behind her, and slowly slipped under Sunset's jeans, enforcing her to attempt to reject any jolts of pleasure as the liquid spreads around the innards of her pussy. Dazzle burrows her free hand into her pale pink shirt, and slowly reveals a sharp, ancient-looking dagger that was concealed within her person with no notice whatsoever.

Sunset sweats in fear, completely having forgotten her being vaginally violated, in exchange for the fact that she's officially staring death in the face.

Adagio smirks with evil intent, savoring the moment, for she understands it will be Sunset's last. "The hand is overrated when it comes to giving blood, anyway." She proclaims. "The veins in the neck are more of a traditional outsource. Just be glad your pain won't be for long..."

As the knife is steadily prepared, hovering towards her throat, Sunset closes her eyes, deciding to embrace her incoming death, as she knows there's no way to escape with the Dazzlings absolutely all over her, figuratively and physically.

…

…

And then, in a sudden turn of events, Adagio is promptly knocked off of Shimmer's lap, when an intervention in the sacrificial attack comes in the form of a person of a third party diving in and _kicking Dazzle square in the face._

"What the _shit_?!" Aria shouts as she and Sonata watch their leader roll across the floor like a ragdoll in free flight.

The two second-hands instinctively come to Adagio's aid with no hesitation, releasing Shimmer from their grasp because of their top priority being loyalty over _attempting murder_ , it seems.

Slowly opening her eyes, having not noticed what just happened, Sunset experiences a feeling of being lifted off the puddle of red, as she comes to realize that none of the Dazzlings were still holding her down.

"Hey... are you okay?"

The former she-demon hears a new, innocent-sounding voice off to her side, and turns her head, locking eyes with a strange girl kneeling down next to her. From the first sight, staring into blue eyes of a similar shade to hers, Sunset infers that this girl looks to be younger compared herself and the Dazzlings, about right in the middle of her teenage years.

This girl's blonde hair runs pretty far down, at least long enough for the end of it to just lightly scrape the staining blood below them, and is oddly fitted with a devil-horned headband of deep red. The weird choice of headwear is balanced out by her green-blue dress.

" _Rrrggh...!_ " Adagio growls only a couple feet from where Sunset and the unfamiliar girl sit, holding her nose in pain, while shoving Sonata and Aria out of the way in frustration.

" _Gimme a sec._ " The blonde whispers to Sunset, harshly dropping her back down onto the blood.

The blonde girl takes a stance towards the orange-haired succubus, wielding a very peculiar pale-pink wand, almost looking like something out of a toy store.

"I don't care who you are, or about how beautiful you and your friends are," this heroic gal sternly warns, "but anyone who tries to kill someone in distress defaults as a monster in my book!"

"Alright, change of plans, girls; we've found someone else _we can feed on_." Adagio grimly announces, all sense of cockiness in her self completely replaced with anger.

The trio of disaster approach towards the brave blonde with the speed of an army of cheetahs, entering a battle they believe to be an easy victory.

Sunset Shimmer looks on as the yet-to-be-identified girl confronts Sonata first out of the Dazzlings and, to her surprise, dismantles the blue-haired woman with some swift kicks to the face and body. Dusk goes down in almost no time at all, and this genuinely takes Sunset by surprise.

Aria Blaze, after a brief couple seconds to attempt to run through her mind what the hell just happened leaves her standing in surprise for a moment, shakes off Sonata's failures and goes next.

 _ **SMACK!**_

Blaze goes down much quicker, as the wand of the girl cracks against her skull with fury intent, and nearly knocks all the conscious out of the punk.

Aria collapses and lies momentarily next to Sonata, who just can't help but mischievously laugh.

" _Shut it, you dumb cunt._ " Aria warns Sonata gravely, as she climbs herself back up onto her knees...

...only to get relentlessly stomped back down by the small blonde assailant's oddly-horned dark-violet boots, sending her back down.

Aria's misfortune again doesn't fail to humor Sonata, whose laguther grows with every shot of pain given to Blaze.

The blonde promptly stomps down on the blue joker's jaw, promptly converting her fits of laughter into raspy choking and gagging as the boot to the mouth practically bends Sonata Dusk's jawline to the left.'

Adagio Dazzle can only stop herself in her tracks during this fight, and watch in awe as her partners in their evil deeds are taken down in a horrifyingly one-sided brawl.

The violent blond gleefully laughs, hopping around in excitement and just filled with adrenaline from the kicking and stomping. "C'mon, that all you got? I've fought dwarf birds stronger than you!"

Adagio growls with clenched teeth as she stomps towards the girl and raised a spiked boot up to meet flesh.

However, the foot thrusting forwards is caught and then twisted around, as the blonde lass manages to spin Adagio over, slamming her onto her face and stomach, and falls back for a gruesome-looking grapevine ankle lock.

Adagio experiences excruciating pain, as the submission hold is put into full force, with the girl pretty much attempting to tear her leg off in as barbaric a manner as possible.

Mercifully, Adagio is able to be pulled free by her fellow sirens, albeit taking a lot of strength; it takes almost a full minute for Aria and Sonata to pry their leading lady's foot out from under the grips of the wild younger girl.

"It's not worth it, 'Dagi! _It's not worth the broken leg!_ " Sonata shouts worriedly.

"It's also not worth getting bitch-smacked by a Barbie doll toy!" Aria retorts towards Sonata, still feeling a tad humiliated by the one-shot knockdown she experienced.

" _Hey!_ I'll have you know this wand was handed down to me by my mother!" The girl screams back, offended by Aria's uncalled comment. She then grabs Adagio's stray sacrificial knife and tosses it at them in retaliation. "And take your stupid dagger back, you sick witches!"

With that, Dusk and Blaze yield, carrying a nearly-broken Dazzle away with them, as they run as fast as they could with the weight on them. Clearly, the escalation of the situation has gone from an attempted sacrifice to what can be closely _attempted_ _ **dismemberment,**_ and they still had much to do without any of the three being physically and emotionally destroyed by someone they know nothing about besides the fact that she could kick her ass.

The violent blonde regains her regular self-confidence, now that she's scared the danger off for another day, in the middle of the late _late_ night.

Having witness the all-out brawl before her to its very end, Sunset Shimmer sits in silence, eyes as wide as possible, knowing the fact that a simple teenage girl with a wand manhandled three women with dark magic that nearly took over her school.

"Don't worry; they're gone now." The wand-wielder assures calmly Sunset as she helps the red-and-yellow-head up to her feet. "You feeling better now?"

"Kinda." Sunset responds. "Well, except for the hand."

It is then that the girl notices the leather-clad woman's gruesome hand wound, and briefly winces.

"I think I can help with that." The blonde says, as she rests her wand onto Shimmer's cut.

After a brief couple seconds, the wand emits a bright pink flash of light, briefly blinding Sunset, and oddly also summoning a couple harmless butterflies that fly off. The end result is 's hand completely healing up within that flare of light.

"Holy _crap_ , that wand's real?" Sunset asks, a bit astonished by how legit the girl's wand seems to be.

"Yep!" The magic girl responds, as if that didn't seem like an odd question to begin with.

Sunset examines the completely-healed hand, amused by the efficiency of the wand's magical properties. "Wow." She says, wowed by the girl's work. "Thank you so much, ...uh..."

"Oh! Right, names!" The girl realizes Shimmer's hesitation due to a lack of proper introduction. She politely shakes Sunset's firm hand two-handed, although the up-and-down movement on it is a bit stiff and rough. "Star Butterfly. Nice to meet you."

"The name's Sunset Shimmer, if _you're_ wondering." Sunset then grins, a little amused by the name given. "Star Butterfly, huh? Kind of an odd name." She then asks afterwards, "Probably helps catch the bad guys off-guard before you beat 'em up or something?"

"When you think about it, it kinda does, doesn't it?" Star answers. "Besides I don't always kick butt; it's just that I saw you in trouble and I came to help. Earth is full of crappy people sometimes."

"...What do you mean by Earth—wait... are you-"

"From another dimension? You bet!"

Sunset lets out a bit of a chuckle of slight bewilderment. " _Wow_ ; you look like you fit in perfectly here."

"Well, Mewni doesn't exactly feel that much like an alien place."

"Mewni?"

"Well, it wasn't me who named it. ...Hey, what's this?"

Star stumbles upon the flier taken off of Sunset, and takes a good, deep look into it.

" _Within a soul a fire still burns, somewhere redemption you will earn—_ okay, I'm no mistress of riddles; you have any idea, Sunset?"

Sunset responds, as she grabs the flier from Butterfly's hands, "Well... no, not entirely, but it told me to come here, and I figured, what the hell?"

"Eh, that's what I would've done!"

"So how'd you get here then?" Sunset is curious to figure out how Star got here.

Star's very honest response? "I fell asleep in your bag."

Sunset's eager smile falls in confusion. Then she looks back at her motorcycle and the open duffel bag hanging on the back, and ultimately realizes what bag she meant. "...Wait, how'd you get in my bag?!"

"Well, I was out camping with a friend and his family; I was kinda drowsy and I thought it was my sleeping bag, so add two and two together and-"

"Alright, I think I get the picture."

Star blushes sheepishly, a bit nervous about the mishap that led her here. " _Sorry._ "

"No, it's fine." Sunset sidesteps the apology in an attempt to move on with the conversation. "Besides, since you saved my butt over there, I think I could use your help to figure out what that flier means by 'redemption you will earn'."

"Ehhh, I—I'm not sure. I'm pretty sure my friend will get worried that I'm not with him."

"He's asleep right now, right? I'm pretty sure he won't notice for the rest of the night." Sunset assures Star.

"...Yeah, you're probably right. Hopefully, if we're lucky, I'll be back before he knows it. And you _do_ look like a cool girl yourself."

Shimmer chuckles, and begins to make her way around the Staples Center. "I like your enthusiasm. Let's go."

Butterfly laughs back, skipping along in a very happy-go-lucky way to follow Sunset. "The only direction we go is the adventure direction, my new ketchup-and-mustard friend!"

"Yeeaah, you might wanna consider not calling me that too much..."

"Eh, you pick some, you lose some..."

 _Of course, it will be continued..._

* * *

 **I don't know if I'm gonna discontinue the "To be continued" thing since it's been used for 10 chapters now, and it's getting kinda old.**

 **The next chapter, where we catch up with Ambrose, Reigns, B. Orchid and some characters from earlier chapters, will take place around the same time as this chapter; realistically, this would be going on during the encounters from the other makeshift group deeper into the Staples Center.**

 **Until next time, stay weird and wild.**


	11. The Search Ends Here

**Prologue, part 7-5  
** _ **Everything Comes Together, part 5**_ **(alternate title:** ** _The Search Ends Here_ )**

 **And now we're back with Ambrose, Reigns and Orchid. Wanted to link them in with a couple past encountered characters for the sake of slowly bringing everyone together, and then introduce just a few more characters somewhere in the chapter for the sake of more stories being put into the connection. The rest of the groups (Star/Sunset, Chris/Ash/Bayley/Balor, Dazzlings, Heyman/Cueto) will have involvement soon.**

 **Rated M: Swearing of many varieties, occasional pints of blood spilt (mostly in the ring), a particularly lewd scene or two, ingestion of beer, possible drug use, yada-yada-yadah.**

* * *

 _Time: Nearing 4 AM  
Deeper within the Staples Center in Los Angeles..._

"Welp... double doors."

"...'welp'?"

"Roman, you understand what I mean when I welp."

"Not this time."

At this point, the focus of this story returns to meet with Dean Ambrose and Roman Reigns, who had not long ago encountered an interesting associate in the secretive Black Orchid, a very serious and stealthy agent out to uncover any suspicious activity in the place she was led to.

Dean expresses his odd knowledge towards the doors that the trio have encountered at the end of one of the Staples Center's many long halls of almost complete silence. "...You see these doors? You know the movies, man; when someone, and maybe a friend or two, stumbles upon doors like these, there's got to be something we'll find out behind them."

Orchid, representing the most sane person of the three (even more so than Roman), negates the Lunatic Fringe's ideals. "Dean, there's no way that kind of knowledge is adaptable at all to real life. Doesn't stand right for Roman, nor for me."

Dean scoffs, annoyed. "For Christ's sake, Orchid, we only just met; hear me out. This..." He bangs on the door a couple times for good measure. "...has got to be locked."

"Oh lord..." The agent in green sighs, as she sets a hand to her head in frustration.

"Orchid-" says Reigns, trying to stop Ambrose's lunacy from making Orchid have second thoughts

Dean shrugs. "Eh, to be fair, Rome; she's never met anyone like us."

She responds quite bluntly, "I've met people close enough to your kind of insanity."

"It's not insanity; it's intuition." Dean rebuts.

Orchid crosses her arms, growing more unamused with Dean's bullshit. "I guarantee you, you have no fucking idea what that word even means."

"It means I have understanding. ...Did I _blow your mind_ yet?"

Roman steps in to remind Dean of who he's dealing with. "Dean, you might not want to fuck with her; she knows how to take you down."

Dean rolls his eyes. "Roman, don't make this a game of 'Who Makes The Situation Worse?', it's kind of a bad idea for all of us right now."

Roman retorts, "Well, you're usually the winner of that game."

After a brief pause, Dean looks back towards the door. "... _Now about the **door...**_ " He attempts to continue his abnormal door-themed lectures. The Samoan soldier again cuts him off.

"Orchid, you go check the door," Reigns enlists his former opponent. "me and Dean will sort this out."

Orchid, although a bit agitated, follows Reigns' suggestion, as she pretty much considers him a more trusting guy than Ambrose. She promptly forces the Lunatic Fringe to the side, and he very easily takes it as an indication to stay out of her way.

"You know what, yeah, that makes sense," Ambrose agrees, taking a few steps back from the spy. "let the hot ass-kickin' lady first. Alright, with common courtesy out of the way-"

Reigns lightly pulls Ambrose off to the side, needing to speak just between the two bros. "Dean, we really need to discuss this weird 'door theory' you got going; remember, last time you discussed it, Braun and Rowan chased us five miles around the country."

"My curiosity gets the best of me sometimes."

"Your curiosity should probably take into account that not everything you assume is a _thing_ is gonna hit the wall and stick."

"It's kinda what I do for a living; just take some weird shit from what you watch or play, and test its adaptation into reality."

Reigns stifles his laughter with his gloved hand. Just hearing that out of Ambrose's mouth is completely inane once one thinks about it. "Okay, that... that is..."

"Lemme guess, it doesn't guarantee success in as many ways possible, and is just based off my weird mentality and years of ultraviolent experience?"

is momentarily silenced; Dean pretty much has taken the words out of his mouth for a brief moment. "...Yeah."

"'Cuz I'm not afraid to admit it; the Lunatic Fringe is a lunatic for a reason."

"I got that, I really do, man, but..." the Samoan gestures over towards the hallway they have traveled across to get to these doors, "We know this whole place out from what we've come for before, right? For SummerSlam and shit? At this late at night, it's become some uncharted territory."

Dean leans on the way for a moment to keep from falling asleep, having been reminded of how late it's been since they've started. "Yeah?"

"When it comes down to it, Amb, the best thing to do around here is..." Roman pauses for blanks to be filled.

Dean takes a moment before adding... "...just keep going."

Reigns and Dean both perk up with rejuvenated smiles, as Dean's understanding grows. "You're right, Rome." the lunatic says. "Alright, Orchid, let's go and get this door goin'..."

As Dean swivels around to face the doors, he notices that they've already been opened. Without difficulty, actually. Being the one enlisted with the doors, Orchid is definitely not in the best of moods, as her gaze pointing very clear towards Dean burns with a seething resentment.

Ambrose's eyes widen. " _Oh._ Shit." Already he's thinking that she could potentially tear something vital out of him before the sun comes back up.

Without wanting to say anything further, Ambrose walks through the door, sheepishly refusing to look at the green-clad agent for the sake of not wanting to get fucked up before everything becomes clear to the three.

Orchid roughly pulls Reigns to the side before he can follow Ambrose through to the next room.

"Why do you let him function like he does out in the public eye?" She questions Dean Ambrose's unstable mind.

"Trust me; he's crazy, but he's a damn good fighter, too." Reigns responds in assurance, knowing for sure what Ambrose can do in the ring.

The Samoan bad-ass strides through the doorway, with Orchid, arms crossed, following not too far behind with a bit of irked reluctance.

It doesn't take long for the trio to notice how unfamiliar this part of the building was. It's probably a given with the fact that Ambrose and Reigns likely don't know _everything_ about the Staples Center despite being WWE Superstars for years now.

What these three fighters have stumbled upon is an unfamiliar corridor of the building; it's much like how it is in the gorilla position of a WWE show, but the end of this path doesn't seem to lead through curtains, into any wrestling event, at all. Just a big old, wide and lengthy, hallway. Doubles in the scare factor with them being the only people in here.

"Where the _hell_ are we even going now?" Roman asks, feeling a little unsettled by this unrecognizable area of the building.

"Is this even a part of the Staples Center anymore?" Dean additionally inquires.

To Roman's left, Orchid peers down to the piece of technology on her right wrist, scanning the scenery.

"From what I've gathered," she replies, "this is most definitely a part of the building."

Still looking down at the radar on her wrist, Orchid suddenly halts herself. She holds her left arm out to keep Roman back for a moment, sensing something on the rise.

Ambrose notices this off the corner of his eye, and turns around in confusion. "Everything okay, guys?"

" _ **Shh**_ _._ " Orchid quiets the Lunatic Fringe. Prepared for a potential attack on the horizon, she unsheathes a stun baton in her right hand, her combative reflexes slowly taking over. "We're not alone..."

"Ugh, _god dammit._ And here I thought random encounters were only in Pokemon..." Ambrose quips.

Ambrose darts around for an object to use as a weapon; he just wants to know the whole story about what the Staples Center means for everyone involved, without brawling with anybody he might not know about. He ultimately decides 'fuck it' and takes claim to a loose, lonely steel pipe hanging off to the side.

"Alright. Let me handle this." Dean assures his partners, gripping onto the pipe like a baseball bat.

"Dean, you have no idea who might be hanging around this place," Orchid sternly warns, at the least trying to help.

Ambrose refuses to comply, instead continuing to head forward. "You've never been me, hon. Sometimes, it takes more than one to go around."

The Lunatic Fringe casually strolls around the hall, swinging around the lead pipe ever so recklessly. With Roman Reigns and Black Orchid having to follow him down to ensure some bit of protection in case something goes wrong, Dean gears up for an assault on anyone who could be considered an unknown assailant.

If one thing's for certain, these three individuals definitely have to be on edge with this unpredictable environment. Who would at all have perfect knowledge of who's inside the building, where they are, and how much harm they could potentially do to themselves, others or just plain everything, period?

Ambrose makes a slow 360 around as he blindly saunters through this part of the building, keeping his new-found pipe close.

And then he bumps into something behind him. And he shouts and swings the pipe.

...It clashes with another found set of double doors. Back to square one for the Lunatic Fringe and his allies.

"Oh come on, there's more?!" an annoyed Dean complains.

Perplexed for a brief couple of seconds by yet another part of the building left without examination, Orchid looks back down at her wrist-worn gadgetry. "Must be a glitch in the system; normally I get accurate results from this thing..." She then promptly slams a fist down on the device in a moment of frustration. "Out here... not anymore."

"Something must be screwing the tech up," Roman considers, preemptively checking his phone for any similar distortions.

"No, no, it's alright, guys," assures Ambrose, who begins to sweat from the stress caused by the increasing and creeping paranoia around the potential sneak attacks. "I've got it under control."

"Dude, you clearly aren't." Roman dismisses.

Orchid adds in, crossing her arms, "It's getting obvious that the lack of sleep is getting to your head."

"I know what I'm doin', Orc!" Dean snaps back, his hair getting scruffier with every spastic movement. "I know you're trying to help, but with me in front, I think I got the situation handled down _perfectly_."

"I say ya don't."

Dean jumps back from the voice speaking behind him, staggered, as he brandishes the pipe en garde. The person subjecting Ambrose to such a sneak-up like that, a reoccurring Stone Cold Steve Austin, laughs at the Street Dog's panicky and fidgety reaction.

"Score one for the Rattlesnake!" the Texan native proclaims, entertained with himself for the moment.

"Don't _do_ that, man!" Dean snaps back, calling unfairness on Austin's unexpected reemergence.

Stone Cold waves off the Lunatic Fringe's shout, "Ah, calm your shit, Dean; I was just seein' what the hell was goin' on out here, and next thing I know, we're all back in one spot!"

"Well, surprise or not, we were bound to find our way back to each other again." Roman mentions. "It just takes time."

"Hey, time and tide wait for no man, not even Austin 3:16." Stone Cold replies. "What happens, happens on what we do."

With that proclamation, the Bionic Redneck turns his attention towards something he considers an unfamiliar sight in his eyes, recognizing the green-clad womanly figure behind Roman's back.

"So, uh... who's the new girl?" Austin asks, pointing a finger in between the two former Shield superiors.

Ambrose and Reigns both pivot their heads towards Orchid, who calmly rejects direct eye contact with Stone Cold as she exhales slightly and responds, "Trust me, it's... better off that you _don't_ know me. Don't want to give _too much_ away."

"Yeah, alright, fine; you just hide your shit away," the Rattlesnake retorts, "I ain't gonna object this time; I don't have the best memories with meetin' women. _That's a secret for another time._ "

"Speakin' of secrets..." Ambrose speaks out, as he tries to look over Steve's shoulders in mild curiosity, "the hell's in that room anyway?"

"Eh, a whole buncha' shit," Stone Cold responds without hesitation, "there's a few fellas in here just getting ready and waitin' to kick ass; it's like a gym in here. There's somethin' goin' on here for sure, a tournament or some shit, and everyone's willin' to push everyone else's shit in."

Dean's loony smile gleams with excitement very quickly. " _Holy shit._ Guess the rumors are true."

"Yeah, whatever you've been hearin'..." Austin nods lightly, "...so, you guys wanna hop in? Could use a sparrin' partner."

Ambrose locks eyes with his Samoan partner for a brief moment, wanting to be sure that they are both feel they are willing to hang around in this time of night.

"What do ya say, Rome?" The lunatic asks. "Maybe one of them might get us some more info on this weird middle-of-the-night shit."

Roman shrugs in response, willing to get over his lack of sleep for now, "Eh... the hell with it; I'm in."

Dean then turns farther backwards towards , "Who knows what the hell's left. Is it worth the risk for you too?"

The jade-clad spy smirks with a sense of fearlessness, as she grooms through her raven-black hair. "I've experienced a lot more than you'd think. At this point, why would I stop here?"

The Lunatic Fringe is glad to hear such unanimous enthusiasm from the group.

And then a garbage can bounces and rolls across the floor, through the doors, and past Stone Cold's feet. Everyone is left very confused for the moment.

"Yo, Rattlesnake!"

New Jack walks up to the Texan, geared up and looking like D-Von's psychotic long-lost brother in his tattered camouflage.

"Wanna toss this shit around in the ring?" The Original Gangsta offers to Steve Austin, who is honestly a bit bewildered by Jack's unpredictability.

"...In a sec, Jack." Austin nods after a brief second of staring at the tin projectile sent flying out of the room.

"A'ight. You the man, Stone." New Jack proclaims, as Stone Cold heads back through.

Picking up the presumably-empty garbage bin, the "Gangsta" turns towards Ambrose, Reigns and Orchid, and greets the three with a light grin. "'Sup, Dean, Roman... green chick."

Dean beams from ear to ear approvingly as New Jack disappears into the room before them. Roman and Orchid, however, are left a bit dumbstruck by yet another unusual encounter.

"...So you're actually friends with that guy?" Roman asks Dean, who responds silently with a brief up-and-down bob of the head.

"He seems like the kind of guy to be a crude criminal, causing trouble everywhere he goes." Orchid bluntly asserts.

"Well..." Ambrose begins a response, as he begins walking through the double-doors, "...to be fair, he kinda is."

The two armed and armored combatants follow Ambrose through the doors, and onto what can be presumed is the end of their search through the Staples Center.

* * *

 _Meanwhile, deep inside what this can be considered a "sparring room"..._

A punching bag is jabbed and kicked with some fierce force, and sent swiveling around on a rattling chain.

A man of Japanese descent, sporting a peculiarly styled mane of black hair, maneuvers around the bag, with the unusual aim of being a moving target at all times. It almost feels like a highly-prioritized reflex, and it shows he knows how to run circles around an opponent.

After a few more hard blows to the training equipment, the fighter steps away from the bag, feeling confident in his skill.

"So..." he smiles, and looks towards something to his right. "What're you here for?"

A way's away from him, a youthful blonde female, looking to be in her early 20s, sits on the floor near the corner of the room, leaning against the wall. Her attire definitely doesn't read 'experienced fighter', as the beige blouse, tight green pants and light blue scarf make it difficult to separate her from most of the average population.

"Just... curious." She responds, relaxed within this room. "I saw the message, and I just kinda followed. Considering how out of left field all of this is like, I'm going to assume your story is pretty much almost the same as mine."

"You'd probably be wrong." the man replied. "I got a call to come here."

"You have connections?"

The Japanese fighter unleashes a brief thrust kick to the sparring sack before him, causing some heavy rebound. "...Yeah. In a way. The guy I talked with... he's not necessarily a close partner I would regularly associate myself with. Even then, I wouldn't miss the call to anything within whatever he could consider this place."

The blonde looks up to the ceiling, thinking deeply. "I don't think anybody here knows the whole gist of … _this_."

"Won't take long for the rest of us to find out what's up." The East-born brawler lays out a few more precise strikes on the sandbag, before looking back towards the relaxed blonde-haired woman. "You want to give the bag a shot?"

"Thanks, but no thanks..." She rejects, arms crossed while she remains deep in thought.

The doors to the room open, swinging with audibility loud enough to catch the attention of both patrons on both sides of the room.

Kevin Owens enters, tossing his Intercontinental title off to the bench to his side, as he first catches notice of the Japan-born fighter before him, leaving the blonde out of the conversation.

" _Shinsuke Nakamura..._ " says Owens. "Almost 2 years, man."

Shinsuke chuckles, reflecting to War of the Worlds back in 2014, back when Kevin was Steen instead of Owens.

"Heyman told me he got in contact with you."

"And here I am." Nakamura replies.

"He said he wanted to consider this a step up from New Japan." Owens mentions. "Given Heyman's track record, it's safe to say there's not much of a chance that he could be wrong."

Kevin then turns his back towards the blonde behind him.

"Although this is speaking for the two of us, and _not you_." Kevin asserts, making it clear to exclude the now-third wheel in the room.

She rose up to one knee, a little irritated to say the least.

"She's no concern." the King of Strong Style assures Owens.

"You never know, Shin." Kevin replies.

"Not even you?"

"Looks can be deceiving, man."

The blonde rolls her eyes, growing irritated, as she doesn't have much room to not pay attention.

Kevin continues, "Listen, anyone could have so much _frustration_ just built up inside. Sometimes it just takes one more push to provoke them to violence. Trust me, the violence here is just a _little_ bit more insane than in Japan. Especially what we work with for so many years."

Momentarily, Shinsuke glances towards the girl in the corner, and then shakes his head with a slightly doubting smile. "I don't think so."

With that, Nakamura goes back to the punching bag, continuing to toss a few hard fists and puroresu-powered knees in order to hone what he has learned from his mixed martial arts training and his incredibly grown strong style knowledge.

Naturally, Owens tries to hide his extreme displeasure, knowing that he generally hates being snarked and wronged.

It doesn't work very well.

…

Kevin promptly targets the sandbag, and unleashes a hard dead-on superkick to it. The force, combined with one of Nakamura's hardest knees possible hitting at the same time, breaks the chain like a branch off a tree, and sends it flopping into the wall and slowly drooping to the ground.

As Owens and Shinsuke meet eye-to-eye, the tension becoming clear, the broken chains spark something intense enough for the blonde bystander to finally decide to retaliate.

"Hey!" She stands up to Kevin, who quickly meets to face her and forces her to a halt.

"I'm sorry, does this concern you?!" The sinister family man yells down to the blonde.

"I think I have a right to intervene." She responds.

Kevin scoffs, "Come on, you should know those rights won't mean shit around here."

She expresses, "They do if it risks making a mess of this place. Whatever it is about this Paul Heyman guy, I'm pretty sure he would like it if this building wasn't torn down by you two. Especially _you._ "

"Pfft. Whatever." Owens shrugs her off, approaching the broken-off punching bag.

Without a second thought, the blonde-haired woman sends her right foot thrusting forward.

Kevin quickly senses the kick coming, and intercepts it with both feet. 's eyebrows spring up in amusement, as he witnesses this go down.

Owens whistles, genuinely a bit surprised himself. " _Calm down_ , girl. I don't want a no-name like you trying to kick my ass; you know you have no chance."

She pulls away from the Wrestling Antichrist's grip, succumbing to the urge of resorting to violence. "The name's Sherry Birkin, and at this moment, I'm the only one in this room who gives a damn about letting justice show you how to _respect someone_."

Kevin steps closer and bends towards Sherry, perfectly meeting direct eye contact with her. "I'd like to _see you try_."

" _ **Enough!**_ "

 _ **WOOSH-SLASH!**_

Accompanying the booming interruption, a chain-linked spear just soars past Kevin Owens' shoulder and stabbing into the punching bag. The bag is yanked away, swiftly flying back towards where the spear comes from at a very dangerous-looking speed, and practically scaring the shit out of the 3 bystanders.

One after another, Shinsuke grows amused, Owens fumes with irritation, and Birkin seems to slowly step back a bit, alarmed by the interruption.

The vexed Kevin Owens advances towards the 4th person in the room. "And who... the hell... are _you_?"

A yellow-clad warrior tosses the punching bag held around his arm off to the side and draws nearer to the Intercontinental Champion.

The warrior responds, "My name is Hanzo Hasashi, the man known as Scorpion! _Know it well!_ "

 _To be continued..._

* * *

 **This can only get more insane as we reach the very end of the prologue, and the beginning of the Tournament of Fate's first phase in the second act of the story.**

 **On the other hand, I would definitely be on board with a new version of the Shield with Black Orchid replacing Seth Rollins. The speed and mindset match pretty well, honestly. Also, she's pretty fuckin' hot. That's a bonus.**

 **Next chapter, everything truly comes together. Until next time...**


	12. The Mentality of the Ensemble

**Prologue, part 7-?**

 **The Mentality of the Ensemble**

 **Before we jump back into the story full-force, this little chapter will be completely dialogue-based (so the fact that it's just quoted dialogue and nothing to mention or indicate whatever they're doing is completely intentional), and focus on several of the groups formed. Basically, it'll feature almost every group. A few of the groups excluded are Reigns/Ambrose/Orchid/Austin/New Jack, Sunset/Star and Shinsuke/Owens/Scorpion/Sherry, as they'll return to focus on the next chapter, but at the bright side, the masterminds behind how this all started will have an appearance.  
This chapter is also a few minutes before where the last chapter ended, to give further indication. That and there's not a lot of plot development here either; it's mainly to remind us of who's having major involvement  
Don't worry, for most of you, you'll probably be able to understand who's talking to who based on names and clues given out through these, and the conversations won't really that be elongated, like in regular chapters that I end up making longer than usual.**

* * *

 _ **The Dazzlings**_

"God dammit, my head is killing me..."

"Well, my leg has nearly been twisted backwards, so we're all on even standing here, Aria."

"Well, it is what that prissy little girl did to you the **most** that's making us carry you, Adagio. Sonata, you agree, right?"

"*cough-cough!* Sorry, what?"

"That stomp to the throat still buggin' ya, Sona'?"

"I'm literally coughing up blood right now; what do _**you**_ think?"

"Well, just suck it back in your mouth and re-fuel, you ditzy little fucker."

"It doesn't work for siren blood! You should know that, you cu-"

"Just shut up and keep going, girls; I think I see something straight ahead..."

* * *

 _ **The Hugger, the Irish Demon, and the Survivors**_

"Holy crap, Finn, did you _see_ that girl kicking ass in there?"

"Yeah, Bayley, trust me, we saw."

"She's—she's gotta be at least a teenager or something! She scared off those three creepy girls and saved that weird ketchup/mustard haired girl with her wand of... I dunno, and I'm completely convinced she could kick all of our asses too, if she wanted to."

"She could probably kick Chris and Ash's asses; not so sure about ours."

"...Kinda splittin' hairs there. Ash, do y—do you wanna take up with that issue?"

" _Chris..._ I've been awake _for a good 20 hours..._ I have no idea what I've been seeing, but I'm pretty sure it was not what you saw..."

"Y-yeah, alright, Ash... Finn, we may need to get somewhere quick, I'm pretty sure we're all in a need of sleep."

"Agreed. Come on, Bayley. Who knows, maybe we'll meet that magic girl along the way..."

"God, I hope so. I really need to learn her tricks of the trade _somehow_."

* * *

 ** _The Authority_**

" _Hunter, I hope you know what you and Vince are doing..._ "

"Steph, we're still missing a few talents. Ambrose and Reigns left, Lesnar's gone, Kevin's still busy, it seems, and it doesn't seem like they might get back anytime soon. We have no idea what to do for Fastlane now, so we might as well just carry on to the next show."

" _But to just not have a show at all instead of giving a show of SOME sort? That'll be a financial nightmare no matter what._ "

"I can't change the whole thing at the last minute. I know what could happen if a show falls off the tracks; we've all witnessed some tough times in our day. When something goes bad, it gets _bad_."

" _Like what?_ "

"Royal Rumble last year?"

" _...Jesus Christ. Okay, but let's just promise one thing._ "

"What's that?"

" _When we all meet up again later, that you and my father have a good idea of how to salvage this in the end._ "

"...Alright. See you later..."

* * *

 _ **The Two Who Started It All...**_

"It's almost time, Dario… You excited?"

"Paul, this was a great opportunity that you've arranged for the both of us. People are hearing the word, and they're all coming together nicely. I am _very_ pleased with how well we've set everything up down in California."

"If we can get this on the map, let's just hope we'll stay there for some time. ECW was as great an investment to me as Lucha Underground was to you, and we both know how we had to escape it somehow."

"In our darkest hours... Yes, we certainly think alike, don't we, Paul?"

"Yes, we do. We both know who the best talent is, and we know how to use them to our best advantage. Daniel Bryan, Brock Lesnar, Kevin Owens, Shinsuke Nakamura... I even heard about that Scorpion guy; doesn't he sound familiar... what's he all about?"

"He's a feared warrior. Battled under the allegiance of a clan in Japan. He's a kind of fighter that would fit perfectly with the others in the Temple, but... well, you know-"

"Yes, I... understand what you mean. Won't be long now."

"The stage is set. Tomorrow night. As long as the message spreads, 18 thousand people will witness the _new_ generation of professional wrestling; the next evolution of the squared circle; the _true_ equivalent to the UFC in terms of violence. And you and I both know how much we love violence around here."

"Yes, we do. Yes, we _fuckin'_ do..."

* * *

 **Just wanted a small interlude before absolutely EVERYTHING comes together in chapter 13. Then the real fun begins after the prologue.**

 **Until next time...**


	13. The Final Rendezvous

**Prologue, part 7-7  
** _ **The Final Rendezvous**_

 **So far in terms of groups, we have:**

 **Dean Ambrose, Roman Reigns, Black Orchid, Stone Cold Steve Austin and New Jack  
** **Sunset Shimmer and Star Butterfly  
** **The Dazzlings (oh yeah, we'll be seeing them again)  
** **Chris, Ashley, Finn Balor and Bayley  
** **Shinsuke Nakamura, Scorpion/Hanzo Hasashi, Sherry Birkin and Kevin Owens  
** **Paul Heyman, Dario Cueto, Brock Lesnar and presumably Daniel Bryan**

 **And then, just out of direct sight in this plot, but not showing up in California _this_ chapter:  
** **Jervis Cottonbelly, Estonian Thunderfrog and The Young Bucks (I have plans of bringing them back into the story in some capacity)  
** **Mr. McMahon and Triple H (but they will be involved heavily in the drama backstage just before and during the Tournament of Fate)**

 **Alright, this seems like a good cast to end the prologue with. Now we can continue with the story...**

* * *

"So you've been here longer than me and the other two..."

Dean speaks up, referring to Roman Reigns and Black Orchid not far behind them, as he separates from his group with them to meet up with Steve Austin and New Jack. This large room seems to simply be a training room of some sorts, with punching bags abound, and machinery meant for one's exercise.

"What's a guy gotta know to hang around this dump?" The lunatic continues, fixing the tape that's still wrapped around his hand.

"I have _no fuckin' idea_ ," Stone Cold responds, almost as uncertain as Ambrose is in this gym-like scenery, "it's just the waitin' game right now. So far, we've been punchin' the bags, tossin' shit around... there's a ring over there, so Heyman's probably plannin' something involvin' wrestling. Not that I would take it up, given... y'know..."

"I don't think I'll have any trouble getting into the ring if I have to over here." Ambrose assures himself and his peers.

"Same here, man. This motherfucka's still feelin' strong." New Jack adds, clinging on to the garbage can.

Still looking on from next to the doors they've entered through, Reigns can't help but find the trio of Dean Ambrose, Stone Cold Steve Austin and New Jack oddly amusing. He crosses his arms and grins sparsely.

"They're really hittin' it off." Reigns quips. "The perfect trio."

Orchid groans, a little disgusted. "If this place was filled with guys like them, I think the world would be fucked as a whole."

"Hey, I'm only joking..."

"If I were you, I wouldn't joke around at a time like this."

"Orchid... come on, just have _some_ sense of humor-"

Orchid glares daggers towards the Samoan. "Roman, humor has nothing to do with the situation. Just remember: we've traveled across the country just to dig deeper and deeper into building filling to the brim with people who are complete unknowns to us. Even if you choose to trust them, odds are they'll stab you in the back in the end."

Odd timing strikes Orchid at that very moment, as the door behind her swings open and slams into her back. Reacting upon her instinct, the green spy immediately arms herself with her electric batons, and faces towards where the door had opened.

A wand points back at her in response.

"Hey! S-stand back!" Star Butterfly stammers, gripping onto her wand with some intention to strike if things worsen. "I don't want to have to hurt you!"

"Holy shit; here we go again..." Sunset Shimmer catches up to Star, presuming that another brawl could break out beyond her control.

Almost about to pounce on the wand-wielding fighter, Orchid is suddenly halted when Reigns grabs her, holding her back in an attempt to stop another outburst of violence. He should know; his first encounter with her wasn't exactly a polite meeting, to say the least.

"HEY! _CALM YOUR SHIT!_ " Reigns shouts in frustration as he restrains Orchid, even practically having to lift her off the ground in desperation.

Star stands back and backs into Sunset, as Orchid starts shaking out of Roman's protecting grasp.

After a moment, the green-clad brawler struggles out of Roman's arms with only a bit of ease, whipping him across the room. She begins to point her batons towards Roman once again, striking out against him again, but the vest-clad warrior catches the attack, building with fury as he holds her back.

"Hey! Get the _fuck_ off me-!" Orchid shouts, struggling to find a way out of his grasp.

"Orchid! _Calm down!_ " Reigns roars back, clearly having enough of this bullshit.

Ambrose breaks away from his wandering around the room, to meet back up just in time to notice the scuffle going on before him.

"Jeez, what the hell's going on over here?" Dean asks, seeing Roman try to keep Orchid gripped down.

"Dean, I'm gonna need your help for a sec." Reigns enlists the Lunatic Fringe.

Ambrose doesn't take long to notice why Roman and Orchid look like they're moments away from breaking out in a fit of violence again. "...Alright, Rome, if you need help holding the bitch down again, I think I got some duct tape back in the car. Want me to go get it?"

Right after Dean lets out his suggestion to deal with her, Orchid successfully forces Reigns to let go and shoves him away, taking a few steps back as she recovers from her momentary exhaustion. She still fumes with anger, but is attempting to cool herself down after the outburst.

"No... no, it's fine..." she softly assures.

Dean squints, unsure. "Are y—are ya sure? 'Cause I could go back and get the tape just in case-"

" _I said I'm fine._ " Orchid's snap towards the unhinged individual does not sound exactly ' _fine_ ', but Ambrose shuts up anyway.

Star carefully lowers her wand, letting her guard down as the proverbial fire within the room fades.

As everything just slows to a halt for the moment, Stone Cold approaches the scene.

"The hell, is there a parade goin' around or somethin'?" Austin asks, briefly puzzled by Star's appearance. "Who's this girl?"

Ambrose turns to look at the wand-toting blonde before him, not noticing until now. "Well, that's a question..." The Lunatic Fringe then takes notice to the older, red-yellow haired Sunset Shimmer behind Star. "Okay, never mind, there's two questions. Well... both of them being... 'Who's she?'"

"It's a kind of a messy story..." Sunset responds, not willing to sum up her near-death experience just a few minutes ago. Star nods lightly, agreeing to refuse to speak of their previous situation for now, as the doors open again, at a slower and less abrupt motion.

"Oh! Hey!"

Chris emerges through, glad to meet back up with Ambrose and Reigns, as Ashley is slumped around him almost like a scarf; at this point, the ginger-tinted survivor has just given up on staying awake, and has flopped into a slumber around her significant other.

Dean is slightly amused by their presence, especially considering they're pretty much the most... _normal_ of the people in this building. "You guys made it?"

"The door was open. Well... _smashed_."

Dean doesn't take long to remember how he and Roman got into the Center in the first place. "...You're welcome."

"Friends of yours?" Orchid asks, completely recovered from her brief state of fury.

Reigns shrugs in response, "Ehhh... accomplices."

Ambrose puts it bluntly. "Yeah, they're pretty much only here because my ride broke down and they offered to help."

Shortly following behind Chris and Ash, the NXT champions, Bayley and Finn Balor arrive. I think you can guess what Bayley's first priority is, considering who's in the room right now.

"Holy _crap,_ Finn!" Bayley squees, taking a moment to crouch down to meet down at Star's height. "She looks even more huggable close up!"

Butterfly giggles in a flattered response when the bubbly athlete softly embraces her. Even if this is a complete stranger to her, her fascination with Earth is still noticeable enough through her over-positive lifestyle. Besides, she just saved a complete stranger a few minutes ago, so it's nothing worth questioning in her mind.

The Mewman princess politely greets back as she accepts the brief cuddle, "Nice to meet you, too..."

Balor chuckles, amused. "So _this_ is happening."

"Is this—this something normal around you?" Sunset asks, mildly confused and a little nervous.

"Yeah," Balor responds, "let's just say she's the biggest fan of the concept of hugging."

"...So you know anything about these guys?" Chris, incredibly out of the loop with a good part of the group, points towards Sunset and Star behind him, mingling with Balor and Bayley.

"Well, two of them are people I work with, and then those other two color-explosions, I have no fuckin' clue." Ambrose replies. "Don't worry too much about it, man; at this point, _I think_ we're at the part of our journey where _everyone's_ getting together in one spot because 'the story wills it' or something. Word of advice, just hope this place isn't rigged to kill us all."

"Dean, we all know that's not gonna happen." Roman assures his lunatic friend.

Ambrose casually wriggles his shoulders. He says, "Well, you never know. Sometimes you gotta ask yourself, 'Is this a call to action or a call to death'?"

 _ **THWACK~thud!**_

Down goes the Lunatic Fringe, bum-rushed from behind by an unwanted interrupter. _Okay, face-to-concrete was not what I had in mind..._ Ambrose snarks within his thoughts, as he is downed for the count, with a certain stocky Canadian asshole standing over him. Another thought comes into Ambrose's mind: _Oy, this guy again..._

"If it were my decision," says Kevin Owens, "I'd assume it was a call for death for anyone around me."

With that, the Intercontinental Champion grabs Ambrose and tosses him across the room, in the opposite direction of where he emerged and rammed him over like a truck, like a loaded truck full of hard shit. Dean takes a brief tumble towards the door that Kevin walked through, and lies back down on his side on the concrete flooring.

The other people in the room, in witness of the remorseless intervening of suspense and mystery within this gym-like scenery, respond with a variance of anger, surprise or fear; for some, a mixture.

Coming from Owens' left, New Jack barrels in, swinging the garbage can at the former NXT Champion, only for Kevin to intercept it and snatch it out of the Gangsta's hands.

KO throws an insult, "Hey, do me a favor; take this can, and yourself, and go dig yourself a grave next to ECW."

In immediate response, New Jack reaches into his person and pulls out what seems to be a Wolverine-like claw. He is not taking any shit at this point, I can tell you that. "Try me bitch, I dare ya!"

However, Jack is yanked away from Owens quite quickly, and meets eyes with a visibly annoyed Roman Reigns, glaring _blades_ towards the Original Gangsta.

"Don't let him try you worth shit," Reigns warns New Jack. "you have no idea about his game-plan."

"Oh really?" Owens snarks, before tossing the garbage can at Reigns. The stone wall of a Samoan barely fazes, as the tin bounces off the protective vest like nothing. "You wanna try something, jungle boy?"

Reigns shakes his head in response, not willing to give Owens the satisfaction, "I ain't wastin' my time on you."

"Hey, I've got all the time, and careers, to kill in the world, Roman; I think I can handle a gauntlet against this whole room at this point."

"You're talkin' about a gauntlet of food, right?" Dean retorts jokingly, from across the room, in an attempt to get over his aching from planting into the concrete not almost a minute ago.

Owens glares back at Ambrose, unamused. "Besides," he turns his focus back to Roman, and the rest of the attending individuals in turn, "Paul Heyman's got a lot of hopes on me; my family's counting on me to do whatever it takes."

" _Bullshit_."

Kevin turns towards the woman only known as Black Orchid, standing just to the left of Roman. Her short but harsh bluff shows her distrust towards his beliefs, and attracts the Intercontinental Champion's attention towards her, but he doesn't seem to be affected too much.

"Gotta break mouths to feed mouths," Kevin scoffs. "I'm no fan of misogyny, but if you wanna make an impact in me and try to kick my ass, I'm not afraid to fight back."

From what comes next, it seems like Owens had a mindset towards expecting this.

Within a split second, the champion from Marieville calculates and catches a lighting-quick thrust kick from the green-clad fighter, targeted directly towards his face.

"You wanna try saying that again?" Orchid questions Owens, noticeably confident in her chances sparring against him.

Kevin smirks with a devious mind within, responding, "I don't need to say shit."

Orchid takes a brief risk in her maneuvering, as she backflips out of Owens' grasp. He dodges back at the same time to avoid the other leg coming up to try and strike him in the chin. Just as both attacking sides stand against each other and meet face-to-face again, Kevin begins to deny any punches to his head whatsoever, deflecting Orchid's jabs, hooks and backhands with his own fists with a surprisingly impressive speed, almost close to an all-out superhero type of fight. Well, almost sixteen years of fighting in the squared circle can do that to you.

The other characters surrounding look on, intrigued by this sudden burst of fighting energy traveling around. There is some bit of worry in the middle of the excitement, but for the most part, they are willing to let blood spill if necessary.

After about a good 10 seconds of brawling in the middle of the room, the only sounds being fists flying and colliding, one miscalculated clothesline from B. Orchid allows Kevin Owens to grapple her from behind...

...and toss her over with a belly-to-back suplex of sorts, slamming her _**immensely hard**_ , nearly dropping her neck-first onto the _concrete_ ; there is no soft spot whatsoever when it comes to that type of ground.

The landing nearly knocks all of the consciousness out of Orchid, as the agent rolls back, and lies down chest-first on the floor.

"Next time," Kevin stands over Orchid and stares down at her, triumphant in this brief battle, "try to study the guy you fight first before you start kicking him in the face."

" _Ghh... fuck you..._ " She mutters under what breath she has left for the moment, quite out of it after that destructive suplex.

Looking back up to the nine other people left watching, the reckless Quebec resident awaits the next challenger.

"Anybody else wanna try their luck?" Owens challenges the rest of the room, arms outstretched to welcome somebody, anybody, to pop-up powerbomb without remorse. "Come on, who wants to step up to the IC champ?"

A brief moment of silence follows. _Nobody_ seems to be up to respond to KO's challenge; Reigns, Stone Cold, Balor, Sunset and New Jack seem to be holding back the urge to act against Owens, while Star, Bayley and Chris are showing some worry and fear towards how Kevin could lay _them_ out, considering how hard he dropped Orchid within a minute. _In case you're wondering, yes, Ashley's absolutely zonked out of consciousness at this point._

Kevin's arms drop back down towards the floor, as he begins to take the hint bestowed before him. "Alright. Fine. If no one else is ready to step up, then I'm off to meet with my boss to see what he's got for me. Don't bother stopping by."

Feeling above everyone else in the room, Owens begins to head off towards the doors that led most of everyone else into this setting...

...when a brief flash of fiery orange light occurs not far behind him, catching his attention.

"What the hell...?"

Kevin turns around to meet the source of the flame emerging behind him, the yellow-clad ninja in Scorpion, standing to meet against KO once again after moments ago.

The small crowd surrounding this evolving narrative is unanimously baffled, to say the least.

Chris is the first to say something against this, "...I-I'm sorry, everyone else saw that guy just _poof_ out from flames, right?"

"Trust me, we're _all_ pretty scrambled up at this point." Balor responds, speaking for the rest of the group.

"You again?" Kevin began, "Come on, Hanzo whatever-your-name-is… I told you I don't wanna mess with your bullshit; what you do on your own terms to beat the shit out of people doesn't involve me."

"A warrior never backs down from a battle." Scorpion acknowledges, " _You_ should understand the way of combat with the kind of soul you have."

"I don't think you know who you're dealing with."

" _Neither do you._ "

With that, the Shirai Ryu warrior throws up an arm and tosses a rope-linked kunai, firing off at a straight-ahead trajectory towards Owens. The Canadian fighter narrowly avoids the sharp projectile, which flies past Kevin's right shoulder, past everyone else behind him, and ends its path slamming into one of the doors into the room, stabbing into the metal.

With one harsh tug on the rope linked to the weapon, Hasashi reels back the spear, forcing the stricken door open as a result.

Just as the door opens, we see three familiar sirens from just a few ways away from the main hall emerge.

Still dragging a fairly damaged Adagio Dazzle along with them, Aria Blaze and Sonata Dusk take notice to the fist-fight getting into full force between Kevin Owens and Scorpion.

"The fu—what is..." Aria stammers frustratingly, a bit out of the loop at the moment with the brawl.

She lets go of Dagi and leaves her fellow two sirens behind as she storms towards the battle in the middle of the room.

Sensing someone approaching the crowd, Sunset Shimmer takes notice to the purple-skinned punk coming her way.

"Hey, what the hell? I thought you were supposed to stay out of our business!" She confronts Aria, remembering what went on a few halls back and still not being too happy about it.

"I don't have time to deal with you, get the _fuck_ off me!" The siren argues against Sunset, shoving her aside, and into Kevin as a result.

Refusing to be interrupted, Kevin _immediately_ responds by elbowing Sunset back in retaliation, and she tumbles back into Aria, who throws her to the side, very well annoyed with the predicament occurring around her.

Turning around after staggering his opponent with an especially hard kick to the head, Kevin grabs the approaching Aria and tosses her by her head into Scorpion. The ninja keeps Blaze held down for the moment, as begins to follow her into the brawl.

"Holy crap, Ar–wait, , I'll come help-!" Sonata begins to shout as she approaches this proverbial fire spreading in the middle of the room...

...only to be interrupted when Owens turns back and decides to toss the blue-skinned oddball up into the air, catch her by the legs, and slam her down into the ground with his signature Pop-Up Powerbomb.

As Scorpion continues to deal with Aria, Owens looks down at the writhing Sonata

...only to get harshly struck between the legs by Orchid, who has recovered long enough to get back into the fight after the backdrop. The low blow leaves Owens very open in a free opportunity for someone to attack...

...and the opportunity is taken by New Jack, who has grabbed his garbage can one more time to shove it over Kevin while he's in pain, and is incredibly adrenalized in holding the can down in order to make sure Kevin isn't getting the chance to attack again.

"I got him! I got the fat fucka!" The Original Gangsta excitedly bellows in triumph over the Intercontinental Champion.

However, Roman Reigns and Stone Cold step up to try and hold the Gangsta back, knowing that the ECW alumnus' insane makeshift plan of action is only going to make things worse.

Naturally, this only means trouble between the three, as struggles to get the other two off him, and then quickly decides to recklessly begin attacking Austin and Reigns, taking his focus off of a binned Kevin Owens.

Gradually, it seems this simple visit to this ragged but moderately clean training room has become the epicenter of a increasing riot of fists flying and insults and cussing bouncing around, with a good majority of those in the room spiraling into an insane, chaotic, all-out brawl.

Having probably enough sense to keep out of this fueled fire of combat, Finn Balor looks back towards the fellow others who have not entered the melee based on their lack of involvement in the brief altercations before, composed of Star, Sunset, Bayley, Chris and Ash.

"I think it's a good idea we get out of their way before it's too late." Balor suggests, as he slowly backs away from the fight. The other five follow suit as they give the others room to spill each other's blood, rather than join in and risk getting destroyed on their own rights.

With that, the brawl continues on with Owens, Scorpion, Orchid, Steve Austin, New Jack, Reigns and Aria taking turns throwing punches, and occasionally tossing each other around like nobody's business.

There is no knowing if this was the intended end result for any of the people directly involved with arranging everything in the Staples Center, or if this is an end result that's only happened because of the built-up rage in some of the characters that we've come to meet, but either way, much like the path leading to California, and to this arena, this discorded brawl has its ending...

...and its ending came with a shout.

" _ **HEY!**_ "

Everything comes to a complete halt when a moderately familiar voics booms across the room, almost at a volume to quake something, and everyone, fighting or watching, looks towards the doors ( _except for Ambrose, who has slowly begun to drift into sleep to recover from Owens' attack_ ) and take notice...

... _as Brock Lesnar begins to enter the room._

"Someone left a piece of shit at the door." The Beast cracks wise, as he casually tosses the injured Adagio into the room. "Picked it up for ya."

Literally the only sounds left in the room after Brock enters the room are from him and him alone, mainly his footsteps as he steps forward, and whenever he speaks. It _really_ leaves little to the imagination of how strong and scary this man is when he can interrupt an entire scuffle of insane fisticuffs with one (albeit very loud) word.

Out of the people bearing witness to the former UFC champion's presence, it seems like Kevin Owens is the most amused to see him, as he smiles sinisterly towards him.

"Looks like the man of the hour's here." Owens quips, stepping past everyone else to approach the Beast.

" _Yes, he is..._ "

And with that, Brock Lesnar's advocate and the one half of the men who have arranged everything within the Staples Center, Paul Heyman, walks up to the left of Lesnar, hands behind his back as he quickly surveys the room.

"...and now we can begin."

* * *

 **GAAASP! Oh wait, the Heyman stuff isn't very surprising anymore, not after chapter 1...**

 **If you read the ending note for chapter 3 of _Still Can't Help Myself_ just earlier this week, you should know that I've been fairly distracted from my stories for quite a few months.**

 **Thankfully, I've recovered for now; I don't know if the next update could be by next week or next month for this story, but at least I have one less story to deal with, with _Still Can't Help Myself_ being finished. UUWF I'll get around to as well, and overall, I'll be a bit more active, more than likely, during this summer after I finish up the school year.**

 **Until next time, _how you doin'?_**


	14. Looking Towards The Future

**Prologue, part 8  
** **Third to last chapter of Act 1/Prologue  
** ** _Looking Towards The Future_**

 _ **A brief look into the mind sets of the Authority's power couple, during these times of worry for the WWE...**_

* * *

 _12:30, Eastern Time Zone  
_ _Leaving New York..._

After the brief shakeup caused by everything leading up to tonight, it's become just a clear path ahead, in a simple little jet flight back to Ohio.

Hunter Hearst Helmsley sits back, staring out the window to his right. He looks out and sees clouds in a very faded dark blue of the night, contemplating what comes next, what will happen once he gets a good idea on what is happening with the few who are heading off in their own direction. He can rest easy for now; with a business as big as World Wrestling Entertainment, things will be back to the way they were eventually. Whether it takes a week or a year to get it under control is out of his hands, but the McMahon family, and anybody involved with them, know not to back down to such mysteries.

His phone rings. Not a mild interruption, but something important is usually involved in these phone calls, especially since he took the helm as COO years ago.

One quick look at who's calling, and he feels as calm and confident as he possible. _At least everything will be okay..._

He answers, "Hey there, Steph..."

His wife sounds off on his phone, " _Hi, Hunter; you doing okay?_ "

Triple H shifts in his seat, "Well... could've been better..."

" _Yeah, it's... been a bit of a rough night, for just about everyone. I don't even want to mention what Dad's thinking right now._ "

"You know him more than I do; of course it's tougher for you."

" _I'm just hoping for the best at this point, that everything gets pieced back together. Unfortunately, I don't think we're gonna get everybody back here in time..._ "

"Might as... might as well postpone the event for now... until the guys come back."

" _Really depends on how long they'll take. I mean, Lesnar, Reigns, Ambrose, they're all a good part of the main event, and they're in the marquee match of the show; as long as they're gone, we can't carry on._ "

"They'll be back, I'm sure of it. The only worry I have for them is that they might be getting into trouble. You and I don't know enough about Ambrose to know what's up with him; either he could be heading back to Ohio right now, or he could be in jail; with him, you never know. Even then, we'll work together to make sure WWE gets through this situation; we're part of the McMahon family, and this family doesn't surrender no matter what."

" _The steroid scandals, the Monday Night Wars, the top stars we kept losing, 1995 in its entirety; this is just a small unfortunate case in comparison to all that. We can get through this._ "

"Amen..."

" _I just wanted to be sure that you're okay over there. We all need some support, even in the littlest of things._ "

"Ever since we got married and got all the competition out of the way, WWE's been pretty much unstoppable, even when others have their doubts; we will win in the end."

" _Remember, everything will be okay; I'll see you later._ "

"Good luck, Steph. Later."

An assuring phone call from someone close to you can be everything, especially in these rough times. No matter how dark the skies may be in the WWE, that little mantra still bounces around in the mind of Triple H throughout; _everything will be okay._

* * *

 **Much occupations have halted my progress on this story, as usual. But even then, I'll still get updates in here and there; I don't know whether I'll get to finish this story this year or next year.**

 **Until next time... happy 4th of July, or in some people's cases, happy Will Smith Stopped The Aliens Day!**


	15. The Beginning of Fate: The Day Before

**Prologue, part 9-1  
Second to last chapter (excluding interludes) of Act 1/Prologue  
 _The Beginning of Fate: The Day Before_**

 **Everything is falling right into place for Paul Heyman and the people he has chosen to align himself with. There are just about enough people brought in to go forward to his next phase in initiating the creation of a new league, and it's unlikely that anybody is going to be able to stop him at this point of the plan.**

* * *

"Hey... you okay?"

Dean Ambrose starts to slowly drift out of sleep, hearing an almost unfamiliar voice.

 _Huh?_ He mutters inwardly, at this point only drowsily thinking, _Renee? Is that you? ... God dammit, Kevin, you fat bastard, if your 'chest-bump from hell' is making me hear voices like Randy, I swear-_

He wakes... and then suddenly is snapped back by skull-to-skull contact with another.

For a moment, Dean lays back down, attempting to fully regain his vision, briefly halted from such a blunt collision.

After a moment to ease up, he sits back up, slowly coming into contact with the person in front of him, the young blonde lady sitting there before him...

* * *

Sherry is able to shake off the brief blunt trauma with ease, quite thankful of the lack of concussions in the end result.

Brushing the slight strings of hair that fell hanging in front of her eyes, Birkin smiles. "Sorry," she says, a little regretful of herself for sitting to close in Dean's clear view. "Just wanted to be sure you were okay."

" _I was_ s _leeping._ " Ambrose puts it frankly, without being too harsh to the new girl. "It's not like I was dead."

She itches the back of her neck. Probably a little nervous given the circumstances. "Yeah, well, it's kinda my jurisdiction to keep people safe around here."

Dean blinks a couple times, trying to collect what she means by a 'jurisdiction'.

He speaks up, "What are ya, some kinda cop or somethin'?"

"It's... nothing you would really need to know." Sherry doesn't bother with giving an answer, and almost completely dodges the question itself.

Dean's eyebrows lightly loosen, as he lets out a brief, slightly suppressed, snort. "Well, alright then." His mind is still telling him to continue questioning her, but he doesn't bother to listen, especially when it comes to someone like the woman in front of him.

Dean had almost _completely_ forgotten where he was, and the creaking door to the right of him quickly catches his attention.

"Need any help down there?"

Ambrose looks up. He simply has no response towards what he sees.

Shinsuke extends an arm down towards the Lunatic Fringe. "Come on. I don't bite."

Dean grabs on as he helps himself up to his feet, pleasantly surprised by the Japanese eccentric's presence. It's even doubly amusing with the handshake that greets him with. Not just his hand, he just shakes around altogether; it's almost like an odd little dance.

Dean simply shakes it off as just Nakamura being how he is, and gives a light smile in greeting; there's nothing too wrong about this greeting, just one odd mind meeting another. "I wasn't... really expecting to meet any other guys here," he says. "Thought I met them all."

The strong-style expert grins, "Surprised?"

"Shinsuke, Dean..."

Both men turn their heads towards the voice of attention, Paul Heyman.

"Please," Heyman suggests, "come join us; we have _much_ to discuss."

The 'lunatic' isn't the most pleased, but decides to step forward. "Enter the walrus..."

* * *

Everything has calmed back down completely; the emergence of the former owner of Extreme Championship Wrestling and his success at keeping everyone at ease is resulting in a quiet environment, as Paul begins to speak on the situation.

"Welcome... everyone, welcome. I must tell you all, this was a tough arrangement to make, but I'm pleasantly surprised with the turnout. I'm sure some of you found the invitation, and some are just here because of some of the others. Be certain, this isn't a ruse or a flat-out waste of your time; I put out a call to action not to force you into anything."

After a moment of pacing as he spoke, Paul stops, and briefly sighs.

"In fact, I... I need your help. _All_ of your help."

The mood begins to set in; this is indeed something of importance.

Heyman continues, "I'm putting together a team, a band of fighters and personalities, for a show, a showcase of talent, something I can actually once again call a creation from the mind of Paul Heyman; for almost 15 years, ever since Extreme Championship Wrestling went under, I've been trying to get back up the totem pole and still make a difference. The rebooting of the ECW brand didn't make much of a difference, and neither did my time in charge of SmackDown. Up until I regrouped with my client here, Brock Lesnar, did I find myself being considered a legitimate entity in the WWE. Unfortunately, even they couldn't bring me and my guys back to the former glory from so long ago."

Heyman stops again and hangs his head down with a frown, letting the past sink in...

...before coming back up, his brief frown fading away into a content smile, "However... with the financial backing of a partner that those of you who wish to join me on this journey will need to get along with, I think this is it. This _is_ that moment that will bring the Paul Heyman brand back to life, under a new home, here in California! This is ground zero to the next revolution, and it'll need all the support it'll get..."

"...so, I've decided; how we start it is with a tournament... a tournament to decide who will be the first person to be known as a top guy, in this new world of competition. Now, if any of you before me don't want to take part, that's fine by me; there's other talents who have agreed to take part if there's spots open in the tournament, but I count on the people I work with to bring us all to the top _together_. The growth of this circuit isn't _just_ based on performance, but on _teamwork_ and _trust._ "

It's really satisfying when the _entire_ crowd around someone has been completely silent and at attention since this man began.

"I'm counting on you," Paul expresses his trust, as he begins to turn around and leave the room, " _all of you_. I'll have something prepared for everyone who's joining in. We start preparing tomorrow; good luck. Let's make this work, _together_... come on, Brock."

As Lesnar nods and turns away to leave, Paul looks into the crowd one more time. "You wanna come with us, Kevin?" He asks.

Kevin Owens looks up at the headlights for a moment, and then around the room at those surrounding him. "If it means being with people I actually like..."

With that, he follows Brock and Paul out of the room. The Heyman Guys flock together, it seems.

* * *

Following Owens' departure from the pack, Scorpion vanished into the smaller room (the same that Nakamura, Owens and Sherry shared several moments earlier) to hone his skills in isolation, and the Dazzlings crept out on their own for their own agenda, before they potentially join the tournament.

We are left with thirteen individuals: Dean Ambrose, Roman Reigns, "Stone Cold" Steve Austin, New Jack, Shinsuke Nakamura, Chris, Ashley (we don't even know these two's last names, it's kind of awkward), Finn Balor, Bayley, Sherry Birkin, B. Orchid, Sunset Shimmer and Star Butterfly.

The group is filled with experienced fighters that will most definitely have involvement in the tournament that Paul Heyman wants to put together, while also having a couple that would feel a little out of place in battle. It's hard to know what will come of these people by the end of this.

Sunset crosses her legs, sitting pretty as she lets the weight of the plan sink in. " _Wow. What_ a game-changer."

"Seems like a smart guy." Star sits down next to her. "Really convinced me."

Ambrose scratches his head. "Yeah, not the most trustful guy, but... can't say that plan's gonna blow up in his face in the end."

Then he turns to the side, to his long-time friend.

"Rome, you agree with me, right?"

"...Well..." Reigns thinks deeply, "when's he's right, he's right; he's been through hell and back just to give the fans what they want. Maybe it's time to throw the guy a bone."

Dean gleams, a little excited himself. "Oh yeah?"

However, Roman continues to stare down to the floor, contemplating the gravel. "But then there's the WWE... Fastlane, man..."

"Oh, it ain't going anywhere, dude." Dean assures his Samoan friend. "We'll be back for them once we finish things up here. Kick ass, take the belt, then maybe kick each other around back in Ohio."

"You and I, we don't know how long we're gonna be here, Dean."

"Rome, when have I ever given a shit about time?"

Roman blinks twice. "Got a point there."

"Looks like you have the worst timing out of all of us."

Dean and Roman turn towards the two NXT hopefuls, Bayley and Finn Balor.

Balor continues, "The next TakeOver for us isn't for at least a couple months."

"I'm sure they won't mind us stepping out for a few days." Bayley adds.

Ambrose nods; he believes that everything's pretty much in order. He understands, surprisingly, what the best plan of action is in this enviroment. "So it's clear then... we're all gonna pitch in, join this little crazy tournament, and make the best of it. Send the fans home happy here, then move on to other things after that."

Reigns smiles in agreement. "Sounds like a plan."

Ambrose gives an eager smile, as he stretches an arm towards Roman, looking for a little bro-to-bro fist bump, accepted with little hesitation.

" _Yossha_..." Shinsuke steps forwards, resting a hand over Reigns' and Ambrose's. "Let's rock this joint."

Sherry comes towards the three joined in, looking down at the hands brought in for the group.

A little smile begins to form on her. "...I'm up for it." Then she sets one hand down with the rest. "Whatever it takes."

"Let's make this a good one..." Balor joins in, almost simultaneous in his movement as with Bayley's.

Stone Cold cricks his neck, the next to join in on the group, "As long as the sumbitch fixes me up, I'm game for another run."

The satisfied New Jack, standing right next to Steve Austin, chuckles and takes his turn, setting a fist above the rest.

Sunset and Star are next up.

Shimmer looks towards the young princess and asks, "Ready to bring it?"

Butterfly beams from ear to ear as her hand joins in, still wielding her want, followed by Sunset gripping onto the head of the wand.

The only two who don't seem to be considering joining in are Chris and Ashley, the two who volunteered to help Ambrose and Reigns reach their destination, and both are absolutely restless to boot.

"Uh, y-yeah, you guys do that..." Chris says, half-yawning. "We're gonna sleep... and, y'know, try to get outta here in the morning, so..."

There's no blaming them; those two practically ended up getting sucked into this situation and are looking for a way out.

However, there's still one person left who hasn't decided yet, and Dean is the first to point it out, "Come on, Orchid; you in or out? What do you say?"

The green-clad agent was still sitting on the ground, a bit bruised from her brawl with Kevin Owens just a few moments before Heyman's arrival. She's probably the only one who has to give it a little more thought, given her slightly disheveled partnership with Ambrose, and the fact that she prefers working alone.

She gets back to her feet with the decision still hanging in front of her, almost literally.

Giving it a bit longer in thought, Orchid finally responds...

"A fight's a fight." With that, she finally joins the rest, "All that matters is I'm going to enjoy seeing blood for blood."

Dean feels especially satisfied; it's pretty much an almost unanimous agreement (save for two).

"Ladies, gentlemen..." Ambrose says, looking across the group, "...I think this is the beginning of something awesome."

It is most definitely going to be "something awesome", for sure; if it's a competition that Paul Heyman is hoping to arrange in order to regain his glory from the ECW days, then so be it.

* * *

"A tournament?"

"Yes, and you're one of the first seeds. It's a sink-or-swim situation, so we're gonna have to crown a top champion before we consider something like a weekly show."

"It's a little risky... I'm still a little worried for my health, even after what Dario talked about-"

"You'll be fine. Now, I'm going to need you to get to the training room, there's going to be a few others who are willing to join the tournament."

"So, me, Owens and Lesnar..."

"We've still got a few others who are willing to join if the spots are completely filled when you come back here; Johnny Mundo, Rey Mysterio, Rob Van Dam..."

"Yeah, you got a point. There's always somebody around to take an opportunity."

"Just get the signatures of the competitors, and we'll arrange the brackets, okay?"

"...Alright."

Daniel Bryan exits Heyman's office, a clipboard—and an objective—in hand. He hasn't completely gotten settled into this new environment, alongside Paul Heyman and the other two Heyman Guys involved so far.

It's been a few hours since he last checked the mapping of the arena's structure, so he's a little rusty on knowing where the training room is. Hopefully, the result will be worth it after the paperwork and other business that sits in the way.

However, a few yards away from the office, Bryan stops himself; he swears he's being followed.

Actually, scratch that, he _knows_ he's being followed. And he's hearing voices vocalizing, singing.

Three beautiful yet eerie voices, _in unison._

 _Somehow, **not good.**_

* * *

 **We are _just_ nearing the beginning of the show; just a couple more chapters before we get to the big event, and yet there is still some suspense within the competitors left to see.**

 **Until next time...**


	16. Beauty and Power

**Act 1  
 _Beauty and Power_**

 **If you noticed it days before, the title of the story changed a bit ("FanFiction Wrestling" is removed from it, and "Act 1" was added). 'Why was that,' you might ask?**

 **Well, initially, I was going to have all three acts in one single story, but... I dunno, it felt like it could be better if the acts (all 3 of them) were separate stories, almost like a trilogy of sorts akin to Star Wars ( _although I doubt Act 3 will be as long as the first two, given what arrangement I'm planning for the story altogether through the three acts_ ). Just felt a little less messy in the long run. So yeah, Act 1, at this point, is _just_ wrapping up, with a couple more chapters to go.**

* * *

The humming of the Dazzlings continues through the hallways of the building, as they make their way towards the foyer.

However, Daniel Bryan, the only one in range to notice, steps in their way, curious but suspicious. "...Can I help you?" he asks the three ladies.

"No need to mind us," Adagio responds, still slightly fatigued from a recent beatdown, "We're just on our way out."

"Got somewhere you need to be?"

"We kinda have our own agenda," Sonata explains, "and it doesn't really involve staying here."

Adagio continues, "And trust me, what you're offering _is_ an enticing and satisfying one to boot, but we have much easier, less painful methods for getting what we want."

"Getting what you want?" Daniel squints, "...What could you possibly want in the world and not find it here?"

" _Blood._ " Aria responds. Blunt as _a baseball bat._

 _Wait what?_ That answer, short and simple, is a very _unusual_ and fairly unsettling one, although Bryan is more baffled than perturbed in his response.

'Dagi herself seems a little bit annoyed, staring at the purple-and-blue haired punk with some disapproval, although keeping her calm throughout regardless. "It's... a little too complicated for you to understand."

Daniel shakes his head. "Don't think there's any need to; a little creepy... but whatever. To each their own."

"Thank you for not concerning yourself with our agenda-"

Daniel interrupts the head siren, "Yeahyeahyeah, right, you're welcome, but... _still..._ a tournament's kind of a big thing in our business, it's a pretty high-standard competition. In this industry, it's a pretty high demand to entertain through the blood and guts of it all."

Dazzle crosses her arms, recollecting tainted memories of the past, memories that shattered many things.

"We've had our luck with competition before," She says, not wanting to think back to her group's past failures, and sounding very annoyed as a result. "We're not willing to risk it again here."

"Well, I mean, it's your choice." says Daniel. "Even then, some people would probably see potential within the three of you, _you_ probably the most."

He points out Aria out of the three, and she is genuinely taken aback. " _The fu—m-me?!_ "

Sonata's eyes widen, almost _offended._ " _Her?_ "

There is some justification in the technical superstar's explanation. "You kinda look like a crazy kind of person, and, from the looks of things, the more intense and wicked kind of people are starting to get a lot more opportunities at bigger things. The 'ruthless aggression' stuff has been changing a lot of things over the last decade, and then some."

"I'm afraid you might be jumping to conclusions, sir." Adagio steps in, trying to speak for her partner that can't at this very moment. "Considering someone like her is a very hazardous move, especially going alone."

"I never said she was going to be a _guaranteed_ star; I'm saying she has a chance."

"Even then, it proves you don't know what beauty and power stand for."

Daniel scoffs; the lady before him doesn't seem to understand much about where he stands. "I'm married; I think I know what they both stand for."

Adagio turns her back, refusing to even consider eye-contact with someone she thinks is _wrong_. " _Pfft._ Absolutely biased opinion."

Daniel feels a bit cross at the agitated Dazzling, his brows lowering and curving in. "You shouldn't be a little jealous just because you're not the one people are talking about. You shouldn't throw yourself in the way of others just to be noticed."

Sonata nods. "He's... he's got a point, Dagi..." she assures the woman she follows. Adagio responds with absolutely nothing, leaving Dusk a little worried.

The blue-toned girl turns toward the rebel in Aria. "You get what he's saying too, Aria?"

Much like the leader of the three, the degenerate spoke no words, instead looking down at the floor.

It takes a moment longer before Aria finally managed to say something after her deep, long thought, and towards Daniel.

"Do you really think 'the wicked' like me have a chance, or _are you just saying that so you don't get hurt?_ "

Bryan blinks twice before speaking up. "Uhhh, 'xcuse me?"

Aria's tone is clearly grim and serious, just a tad bit close to fuming. "Oh, don't act like you don't know." Then she began to elaborate, hands akimbo across her dark violet jeans. "You come up to a couple of people you don't know shit about, and you try to act buddy-buddy with compliments and other bullshit, because you're worried they might stomp your face into a windshield. I've seen it done, I've heard it happen. _It's not going to work for us._ "

Sonata is almost immediate to try and extinguish the situation. "Aria. _Don't_."

Aria looks back, "Stay out of this."

Daniel defended his reasoning, "I'm being _serious._ This place is full of crazy and brave people who get to speak their mind and kick ass at the same time; you could join them if you just try."

Aria steps closer, attempting to stare Bryan down into submission. "You underestimate us; you should know there's a chance that we go beyond your definition of 'crazy'."

Sonata tries again to stop her, "Aria, seriously, there are other ways we-" What she received was an irritated growl from the punk.

Daniel continues, " _And_ you should know the kinds of guys who get into that ring and tear the roof off."

Aria's rebuttal? "You'd be scared _shitless_ at what we can do as a team."

"I've faced _demons_. Well..." He backspaces mentally for a moment, "demons who double as corporate assholes, but the point still stands!"

Aria lets out a slightly muffled snort. "Okay, you're already running out of ideas to try and prove me wrong."

"I..." Daniel looks down at his shaky right hand, "I _really_ wanna kick something, but I'm not really a guy to ruthlessly beat people up in public."

The rebellious Dazzling member is trying hard to provoke the bearded superstar, "I really wouldn't call this public; why don't you go ahead and try?"

At this point, Adagio is beginning to take notice to the argument sparking up, turning back around, and... quite legitimately begin to get worried.

On the other hand, Sonata's blood is really starting to boil, the frustration of not being able to prevent anything from this through just simple reasoning really putting her in a bad place.

"Oh, for _fuck's sake_..." she growled, resorting to desperate moves to pull Aria out of there.

At this point, almost literally.

Just before the argument could come to one of two possible solutions (one more violent and much more likely to happen than the other), Sonata grabs and pulls Aria by the arm, forcing a separation from Daniel…

...and, in turn, causing Sonata to get elbowed straight to the jaw as a result of Aria's breaking point having been reached. The blue-skinned siren goes down with little difficulty, mouth busted and almost bloodied from the surprising strike, but manages to land in the arms of a startled Adagio.

Daniel promptly steps back a few inches, caught off-guard by this sudden escalation.

Aria turns back to him again, shaking off the very minor damage on her arm from slamming it into somebody's face, and almost not caring about anything, from the looks of her anger starting to flow through.

"Now tell me," she says, "would you want to end up like _her_?"

Still calm under the pressure, Bryan replies, "Something tells me I won't have a choice."

"Not in this lifetime." Aria says as she begins to take a stance, preparing for a battle...

" **ARIA!** _ **STOP!**_ "

 _...Aaaand it's gone._

Almost immediately as she hears the shout, Aria's arms drop back down from her readying stance, going from ' _ready to kill someone'_ to somewhere close to _'Oh come the fuck on'_.

She stares back and catches the ire of a furious Adagio. Although she is not willing to strike down the seductress, still has a mind to try and verbally lash out at her. Emphasis on _try_ , as not even a word is let out of the purple she-beast

" _Don't_ say a _fucking_ word..." Dazzle snaps at Blaze, refusing a word out of her.

The tension is high, with both of the sirens left standing doing their damnedest not to get caught up in a fight of their own. This is probably the closest it's been between the Dazzlings without going into war with each other in the most physical fashion. It's a good thing it isn't coming to that, as it would be hard to figure out how much damage would be caused if they went all-out on the violence on each other.

Soon enough, the fire slowly fades back down, and Adagio sighs with eyes closed, a minor sign of desperation.

And then she turns towards Daniel, finally coming to a decision of her own. "Alright. You want us to play your stupid game? _Fine._ We'll deal with this out there."

Frustrated and morally torn, Dazzle brushes past Daniel, storming back in the opposite direction, deeper into the center. The whole scene occurring before Bryan has left the wrestler thinking, _did all that really just happen?_

With Aria still standing in front of him, most definitely not yet ready to let the anger go, Bryan speaks. "Um... see you at the tournament?"

Aria rolls her eyes and rudely bumps Daniel out of the way, following the head siren. " _Fuck you._ "

The only one of the trio of sirens left is the physically afflicted Sonata, stricken with the extra downside of being a little dizzy.

"Gimme a... gimme a minute..." She mumbles, staggering as she stands up, checking her jaw as she walks past Daniel with an unsteady path ahead.

…

Daniel nods to himself, alone. "... _This is one fucked up group we're dealing with._ "

* * *

 **We got one, maybe two chapters, in Act 1 before we head on to the next. I hope everyone here has enjoyed the story so far.**

 **Remember, with the next act, it'll be as a separate story, so if it's "completed" in this story, don't be worried that you might not see the Tournament of Fate after all.**

 **Until next time, make sure to catch that Pokemon in your closet!**


	17. Let The Games Begin

**Final Interlude  
** _ **Let The Games Begin**_

 **Here's the last chapter of the act. One last look at the sides of the story we've come to learn about. It's the calm before the storm, and the storm rises in the next act.**

* * *

Every competitor understands the meaning of 'cause and effect', a 'butterfly effect' of sorts, and that even in professional wrestling, where someone makes their mark can potentially cause waves through the pro-wrestling world. This rings especially true for the man formerly recognized as Bryan Danielson. To think, this scenario probably wouldn't have happened, at least in the way it's been going thus far, if he hadn't taken the call.

And now here he is – one of the guys that the others have all their trust with: Paul, Dario, Brock... not so much Kevin, but still.

Daniel exhales during a brief moment, as he stands before the double doors to the training room.

* * *

"So, you just... agreed to meet 'em? Didn't bother to talk about to anybody?"

Ambrose and Bryan sit in the middle of the almost-barren room, just having a casual discussion between each other about how Daniel Bryan ended up here, and how it led to Ambrose and Reigns following him; a good majority of the competitors heading into this tournament have already secluded themselves into other, smaller rooms; there's a lot of doors around here, more than one would assume from a notable arena like the Staples Center.

Daniel shakes his head, in response. "It... felt like a personal matter. One that I had to deal with on my own."

Dean rests his head on his right hand, still taped up and rough from a few hours ago. "Well... at least you made sure to tell Brie you had to go. If she didn't say anything, that wouldn't have actually changed anything worth shit from where Roman and I were headed. We probably would've just been heading into Fastlane."

Daniel nods. "That's pretty much the thick of it; one decision changes everything."

"Same shit between the both of us..." Then after a brief pause, Dean squints, deep in though. "Shit, dude, what do they call that again? Butterfly... choice?"

" _Effect,_ man."

Fingers bring together to make a snap, as soon as Dean catches Daniel's correction. "Yeah. _That._ That... sums it up in a big ol' bag of crazy shit."

Both men crack up in a small fit of collective laughter, clearly enjoying each other's company.

Daniel's laughter fades first, as he speaks. "And... _here we are._ Sitting here, in the middle of Los Angeles, working with Paul Heyman in... what is pretty much going to be his ECW 2.0 in a nutshell."

"Yeah... don't know exactly what's gonna happen. I mean..." Dean begins pointing out, "I'm here, you're here, Brock's here, Roman, Kevin, Balor, Austin, Shinsuke... and then there's the new group of guys, like... fuckin' ninja from hell, the... wand-waving weird girl, and, of course, the green babe with the batons and the mega-tits."

Daniel stifles his laughter. "That's one way to put it..."

"I mean, if we're going in, we're going in fightin', right, Bry?"

Bryan nods again, a little pumped up for tomorrow. "Yeah!"

"Ha-ha, yes!" Dean chuckles, extending an offering fist.

"Yes!" Daniel accepts the fist bump, and they smile off any potential troubles.

And to think, it's 4 AM in the morning, and they don't look like they even NEED sleep. That's the WWE lifestyle for you, right there, and that life is gonna toughen you up, _especially_ in this scenario.

* * *

 _Meanwhile, back in Ohio..._

The plane lands without a hitch.

Triple H exits, the WWE World Heavyweight Championship securely wrapped over his shoulder

One of the first things that occur upon his arrival, he sees Stephanie waiting for him just near the landing site, and he greets her with a warm hug and a tender kiss.

Not long after the greeting, as the power couple are walking into the airport, Hunter tilts his head to look down to his wife, the first to speak up. "Anything else happen while I was gone?"

Steph shakes her head. "...No, nothing I've noticed."

"Nothing at all, hmm?" ...A few moments later, "...Any-any of the guys who left get back to you at all?"

Steph responds, sounding a little frustrated herself. "Unfortunately, no... no sign of Roman or Brock, not even Kevin at this rate."

Hunter stares hard at the floor in front of them. " _Shit._ "

"Tomorrow morning, we'll try to find any and all updates on all the absent talent as soon as possible. For now... we gotta hope for the best."

" _Hallelujah._ " mumbled HHH. "This close to 'Mania, it'd be a disaster if this went on any longer."

So the plan was simple: get updates on the missing workers, bring them back as soon as they can, and get the WWE scheduling back on track as soon as everyone's back; that way, Fastlane is resecured (albeit more likely a week later than expected), and the WWE stays the way it should be. It's got to be simple as that, right?

Except it isn't, when _certain people_ get in the way.

"Hunter! Stephanie!"

Hurrying through the airport, barreling through other travelers, Vince McMahon suddenly emerges in the vision of both sides of the Authority power couple. He's a surprisingly fast for a man who was rounding 70 years old.

Stephanie is startled by her father's dash through the airport ", w-what's the rush-?"

"Drop everything you got right now, and get back to the arena as soon as possible! Emergency meeting!" Vince shouts, sweaty and frustrated.

"What, what's the problem?" HHH asks.

" _I found out where they've gone._ We need to go back to Ohio to discuss this! Come on!"

Ending the discussion at that, Vince hurries off, motioning Hunter and Steph to follow him. At this point, it seems like they have no choice but to follow him. No need to cross the boss, no matter the age, _especially_ when he's part of your family.

* * *

 _And back to California..._

A wall is carpeted over by pictures among slightly wrinkled pictures of the competitors that have made their presence felt in the building, as well as some miscellaneous papers, including the cryptic message that they've spread across the world.

Paul Heyman stares across the wall, surveying the characters that have been brought into one sole building, in a method of recruitment that involved several different paths.

"One day. One day 'till showtime." Paul speaks, as he focuses on everything on the wall in front of him. "I think we're ready for that day."

Dario Cueto stands not far behind Heyman, a lit cigar in hand, as he too stares at the photos laid in the office before them.

"The stage is set," says Dario. "Tomorrow, we unveil our collaboration, our _magnum opus_ to the world."

Heyman nods. "Together, I think we can put together some magic. All the the blood, sweat and tears that we've both been wanting in this industry will most definitely mean something again."

Dario approaches the mess of a wall, standing side-by-side with Heyman. "This is what the act of wrestling _should_ be; not a sport, but a _battlefield_. After ECW... after Lucha Underground... this time, for certain, will be the be-all-end-all of wrestling competition."

Heyman continues, "With who we have, for sure people will flock to us, over WWE, and perhaps we'll be able to easily entice those who haven't given our form of entertainment a chance. Brock Lesnar, Stone Cold, Daniel Bryan, Shinsuke Nakamura... all kinds of talent that'll guarantee our success."

"All the star power... a promotion made in Heaven. Or Hell. Whatever way works best when it comes to providing the best in competition... **violence**... and entertainment."

Heyman begins to make his leave, having his own business to tend to, even so late at night.

"Tomorrow is the start of a new era," he says. "Everything's fallen into place; now we just have to unleash the potential that we got, and we'll be in business."

As Heyman closes the door, Cueto continues to look at the assortment of photos stuck to the wall. All these characters, brought together, mean something to the plan that's been set.

After a moment of silence to focus, he tosses the cigar away, into the fireplace placed at the bottom of the wall.

The fireplace lights up underneath the bulletin board, leaving a small light beneath it all. The fire nearly touching the paper, nearly spreading flames, but still expressing a beautiful orange tint to the office, brings a smile of satisfaction through his face, satisfaction in his work, as he looks towards the future for himself and Paul.

One last sentence from him signifies the beginning of something...

" _Let the games begin._ "

* * *

 **And that's it for Act 1. Act 2 is coming soon, and the competition will begin. Thanks to everyone who read through Act 1 to get to this point, for 30+ reviews (by the time this is uploaded) and for 1500+ views overall.**

 **Until next time, happy WWE Draft day, everyone!**


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